That was then, this is now
by DarknessIsTheUniverse
Summary: Reid is kidnapped. Sort of. He wakes up in Mexico with amnesia, unaware that the man who has him is a wanted criminal who is sort of obsessed with him. Uh oh. Well, at least Morgan is looking for him all over. Slash, mature themes. Sequel to FDTD :D
1. The End

**_Hello everybody! So here is the sequel to my story 'A Slightly different Case from Dusk till Dawn'. Sorry for the long wait, I know it's been almost a year. I hope someone still wants to read this anyway._**

**_If you haven't read the first story, this will not make sense to you, so I suggest you go to the EDITED version and do that first if you're interested in this. _**

**_For the rest of you, I have a vague plan for this. It will be a crossover with yet another Tarantino film -Reservoir Dogs- although I don't know yet how much of it I will bring into this story. I just need some interesting villains._**

**_Alright, starting where we left off. Reid seemingly has some sort of amnesia after the traumatic deaths of his friends and the stress of getting kidnapped etc. Seth has yet to tell him that he is the one responsible for it all -I assume he will get around to it eventually- but for now, he's sorta kidnapped Reid yet again, taking him God knows where. _**

**_Lastly, just so you're not confused: There will be jumps in this story, between past and present, flashbacks and flashforwards. They will be indicated accordingly._**

_l_

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds, From Dusk Till Dawn and Reservoir Dogs do not belong to me. I do not make money from this. 

Warnings: Slash, possibly triggering content, violence, blood...nothing you wouldn't see in those movies. If you've seen the movies you'll know this can't be worse than that.

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**_Preface_**

**_._**

"Down! Get down on the ground!" Morgan yelled over the sound of the nearing police sirens.

He was swaying, bleeding and battered like all of them, but his hands around the gun were steady as ever as he pointed it at the men opposing him, all of their guns drawn in a deadly standoff. The look of determination on his face looked like it was carved in stone.

Whoever wanted to leave this room would have to go through him.

He knew it, they knew it.

Reid _knew_ it and it made him feel sick with fear. He needed but one glance into the sweaty faces of the criminals around them, at their panicked expressions, to realize that they knew they had to act now if they wanted to escape at all. They police was almost there, their time was running out.

Reid felt his heart leap in panic at the thought.

They had nothing left to lose now. Not anymore. This wasn't about diamonds or money or revenge anymore.

There was a mount of dead bodies behind them and prison or death ahead of them. After everything they had done in the past 72 hours alone they wouldn't risk being incarcerated. They would do whatever they had to-

"Morgan!" he gasped, cold fear finally snapping him out of his stupor.

He pushed himself off the ground despite his protesting body, trying to keep a balance as he moved forward, towards his friend.

It was his fault Morgan was even in this situation; he had come looking for him and found fatal danger instead. He needed to save him somehow from what he knew was going to happen, consequences be damned, he had to –

Without warning, he was grabbed from behind and shoved to the floor again, buried under a heavy body and pinned by hard hands. He wheezed as he hit the ground hard, the breath knocked out of him.

"Reid!" Morgan screamed his name, the sound almost drowned out by the chaos and noise all around them. There was fear in his voice for the first time.

Reid fought to get back up with all his might, to get to him, but it was pointless. Just like always. _He_ had always been stronger than him. "No!" he cried, thrashing. He couldn't move, he couldn't-

"Drop your gun or you're both dead!"

Someone else was yelling now…he couldn't tell who over the rushing of blood through his ears and the hammering of his heart.

All he heard were the following gun shots, tearing through him like a knife, then the bodies dropping to the ground.

"NOO!"

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**_So much for now. This obviously happens towards the end of the story. Make of it what you'd like._**

**_Next chapter coming soon, Saturday I'd say. _**

**_You still have the chance to tell me what you'd like to see adressed in this story, what to happen, who to appear, what questions to be posed and answered. This is your time! ;) _**

**_Please take a sec to let me know, that way I will also know someone is interested in the story. Thanks!_**


	2. Decisions

**Hey again :)**

**So I was so thrilled by all of your nice comments that I hurried and finished the first chapter today! And here it is.**

**I received some questions so let me answer those:**

**Firstly: Yes, of course the pairing here is Seth/Reid. The story is about them. No other pairings I have planned so far, although that can always change. **

**The team will have a part in this, if small, and Morgan will be there. I will try to just write him as a concerned friend, nothing more (we'll see how that goes :S).**

**And yes, I do foresee Seth and Reid's relationship going through several stages, some of which might not be so nice but some of which should include some "romance" as we might call it. Hope that helps :)**

* * *

**Chapter 1**

_Looking back, the way it ends seems appropriate. Nothing else would make sense considering the beginning. _

_Maybe, he thinks, if he had just tried harder, fought more, if he'd been stronger. If he'd just run even. Maybe it would have all ended differently. _

_But then, he never really had a chance, had he? Not back when he had at least had somewhere to run to, and enough brain cells left to form a sane thought. Not later when there were no more physical restraints, no more tangible walls to conquer, unnecessary once he was trapped in his own spiraling mind. _

_No, looking back it's almost ridiculously easy to see. Between Seth holding on to him by every means possible, dragging him back with desperate force every time he tried to make it stop, and himself who has somehow gotten so hopelessly tangled in all of it that the strings holding him captive are also the ones keeping him from falling, from breaking apart, there hasn't been an out in along time. _

_There is a before -one he can remember vaguely as though it was another person's life- but no beyond and no after. Maybe there was once, at the beginning, maybe not. Maybe there never was any getting away from it; maybe it was fate. Cruel, twisted, ironic fate. He's never believed in any of that but he can't help but think of it now that the core of what's he's fighting has become as vital to him as oxygen. _

_Maybe that's the most frightening of it all. How can he attempt to rid himself of something he needs, craves so desperately that its loss would mean his certain demise? _

_He can't. _

_He has probably known that for a long time, ever since it became impossible to sleep without Seth next to him, or to rest without his touch. He almost wants to laugh at how pathetic and ridiculous a shadow of his former self he has become. Feeble, blind, hopelessly addicted to what's killing him. _

_There is no going back for him; no more choices to be made, not even now at the end, now that they are presenting him with empty words like future and hope. _

_He knows that there is none of that for him anymore. Not after everything. _

_He can't even feel regret as he looks into their hopeful faces. They don't understand. They are mourning someone who has died too long ago to matter. _

_He closes his eyes, lets their voices rush past his ears. He won't tell them, won't hurt them more by trying to get them to understand what he is now. What he needs to do. They'll see soon enough. Maybe then, once they've seen the truth, they'll be able to let go of his ghost. _

_If he can do it so can they._

_Maybe he feels like crying then, for a brief moment. _

_He doesn't. He's done enough crying for a lifetime. It is what it is. There's nowhere to go but down. _

_At this point, he is almost anxious to. He's tired of fighting._

xxx

It took over five hours of driving without a break before Seth finally found the nerve to slow down and drive at least close to the speed limit, and even more time for him to stop compulsively looking over his shoulder.

It was mid day by then, the sun shining through the windshield brightly, a warm breeze coming through the open window. It was hot in Mexico, not a cloud on the sky, the empty road glimmering in front of him.

A perfect day.

He barely felt any of it, just barely aware enough of his surroundings not to crash the car.

He felt like he was caught in a dream, everything around him strangely surreal. The sun, the air, the fact that he was still breathing. Seth's hands were clenched around the steering wheel tightly, like he was afraid that if he let go everything would just fade away and he'd be thrown back into the nightmare he'd just emerged from.

_Claws, reaching for him, blood, gore, screams...hellish eyes staring at him hungrily wherever he looked..._

He shook his head harshly. In the bright light of day, those horrid memories, however fresh they were, really almost seemed like figments of a bad dream. Almost, if it hadn't been for the almost tangible sensation of unearthly screeching hurting his ears, of cold breath on his neck, that horrible feeling like any second something was going to come out of nowhere and grab him, tear him back into the cold and dark, back towards death.

_Mangled corpses, bled out, on the floor, empty eyes staring towards the ceiling...his hands were sticky with blood, his brother's blood...somewhere close by he could hear screaming, a familiar voice that turned his blood to ice..._

He breathed in deeply, forcibly shaking off those thoughts. It was over. Over. Behind him. He'd burned that fucking bar down to the ground along with everything in it. Nothing was going to come after him.

And he didn't actually care about those dead people, those cops.

Only Richard...

The memory of his little brother, first deformed into a monstrosity from hell, then dead at his feet, made him want to stop the car and empty his stomach in the side of the road where nothing else could.

He didn't though.

He had been calm and collected so far, every minute since he'd gotten out of that bar -he wouldn't let his nerves catch up with him now. And neither his emotions. He knew he needed to put it all behind him if he didn't want to go insane. He'd grieved for his brother back there already - if he started up again right now he wouldn't be able to function at all. Knowing himself, he'd stop somewhere and get drunk off his ass, either falling into a senseless coma for days or starting a fight with some clueless fuck who wouldn't know what hit him. Either way he would end up either dead or in prison again, captured after all in his carelessness.

For a moment, it was hard to remember why that would even matter.

Then, slowly, he looked over at the passenger seat and it came back to him. The kid.

Spencer was curled up against the door, his head fallen against the window. He hadn't opened his eyes or even moved an inch since they had started driving, probably unconscious rather than sleeping.

No wonder, the whole ordeal really had done a number on him…

Tangled strands of his hair had fallen into his face which was still ghostly white except for the blood splatters that covered it like tiny freckles. He could still remember how most of it had gotten there, the scenes flashing brightly before his eyes. Spencer had been so completely out of it by the end of it all, shaking, panicked, crying…

Now he was perfectly still though, his breathing soft and regular, his body relaxed. Again, like it had all just been a bad dream…

Seth gazed at him numbly, momentarily reminded of _before_, when they had been in the car together, driving to meet Richard. Spencer had been in bad shape already then, rattled from the latest near death experience, but he'd been fine compared to what came after. Seth himself had been _brilliant_ compared to now. Looking back, it seemed almost surreal that his biggest problem then had been his inappropriate feelings towards his hostage and worry about his brother's reaction upon finding out.

Now, he didn't have to worry about either. Richard was gone. And _he_ had completely lost control with Spencer, had lost himself... He faintly felt his stomach twist at the memory of what he had done.

_Desperate hands digging into his shoulders, tears on his lips...bodies pressed together so closely that their racing heart beats became indistinguishable... 'Please, please...'_

Seth swallowed hard, that image taking longer to shake than the others, also because it caused a disturbung mix of emotions to stir inside him. He managed somehow, knowing that he couldn't think about that right then, about what exactely had happened and just how damned he was because of it.

He had to be able to function right now, to keep a clear head if he wanted to get to safety.

At least he supposed that that was his plan here. So far he hadn't paid much attention to where he was even driving. After getting out of the bar, he hadn't really thought about anything other than getting as far away as possible from that place. He'd just gotten into the car and driven off aimlessly, something that was slowly becoming apparent to him now that he was actually looking at the road.

Safety? Was that what he was after?

Only hours ago, after Richard's death, he hadn't even been sure he wanted to live on at all. In a way, all that had kept him going then was...

He swallowed hard, his gaze grazing the sleeping young man next to him. He'd tried to save Spencer, a motive completely in line with the rest of the insane, obessive fixation his brain was cooking up since they'd met. He didn't even try to tell himself how idiotic any of it was or had been, knowing by now that nothing would change a thing about the facts. He didn't regret saving the kid, not for one second. The thought of him being dead-

He blinked slowly, trying to clear his head. Obviously, nothing had changed for him -except for the fact that he had let what had been festering inside him out and that he had in consequence possibly, _definitely_ done something unforgivable. Again, he couldn't help but remember the kid's tears, his distraught state, his desperation...all mixed signals as he'd clung to him...

It had felt nearly real enough to believe he hadn't taken something that would have never been his. Very nearly. Even now, he almost wanted to believe it. That Spencer had wanted it. Him.

But he knew that even if that was partially true, that what he'd done was possibly the worst crime he'd commited against the agent in all their time together.

He knew that. Intellectually knew it. Maybe, he liked to think, maybe if the kid had woken up outside of the bar, crying and in pain and hating him for taking advantage like that -then maybe he wouldn't have made it all even worse by taking him with him.

But it hadn't been like that. There hadn't been another meltdown, not even the inevitable tears at remembering his friends...

Instead, he had gotten –yes, what? He still wasn't sure exactly.

The kid _hadn't remembered_.

He didn't know how, but he just hadn't. He'd seen it in his eyes even before Spencer had told him. There had been nothing there of his usual expression, no fear, no shame upon seeing him, no guilt and none of the expected agony over his friends' deaths, no hatred for Seth…just confusion and exhaustion, slight worry maybe. Nothing more.

It had taken Seth all but ten seconds to go from worried to deeply relieved. He knew it was utterly inappropriate, after all he didn't know if Spencer's state was reason for concern, if something was wrong with his head or if it was just due to the acute stress and would pass –he didn't understand much about those things.

But touching the kid's face, and hearing him _say his name_…_his_ name…so, _so_... it had erased everything else from his mind.

Spencer had always looked at him with so much pain and desperation and distress in his eyes. Seeing that gone suddenly, and seeing him look actually...comforted by his touch instead of instinctively flinching away…

Before he'd known it he'd had Spencer in the car, driving off with him. No question of whether to go on at all at the prospect of having the kid with him...

It was only now that his head was clearing some that he realized what he was actually doing. That he had essentially just kidnapped him for the second time. That Spencer wouldn't want to be anywhere near him once he woke up and got his head straight. That there was nowhere to go from here -at least not for the two of them together.

Because really, what was his plan here?

Of course he couldn't keep the kid with him against his will, not considering where he was going and especially not with how their relationship would be after...everything. And to hope for anything else was ludicrous. He gripped the steering wheel more tightly, telling himself that he knew that, had known that...and that wasn't what he'd been planning to do at all.

No, of course not.

He'd had no choice, was all. He couldn't have left the kid in the desert on the assumption that the feds would find him in time. He would have died out there... And he couldn't have just dropped him off somewhere once he woke up either.

He looked at a street sign as it flew by and frowned. Just as he'd assumed. They weren't anywhere near the US border - not like Seth could show his face there- and none of the other agents had made it. He couldn't just leave Spencer here by himself, especially not in his current state.

He looked back at the street again, trying to think a little clearer long enough to figure out directions. No, he had been right doing what he'd done, for once at least. He would find somewhere to hide out until he came up with a plan for his future and he would take the kid there with him until he was sure he'd be alright. He owed him that at least after everything.

Right. Spencer would have to understand that...maybe not right away but-

A hiding place. Somewhere the cops wouldn't find them. If they were even still looking. Now that he thought about it, it was entirely possible that once the BAU would be declared dead by their colleagues finding the bar burnt down, people would simply assume that he too was dead.

_All the better..._

_Wait, if that's the case, doesn't that mean they'll think Spencer is also dead? They won't even be looking-_

He shook his head, refusing to finish that thought, afraid of where it might lead him to. Instead, he did his best to focus on the road and try to think of somewhere safe for the both of them to go.

For now he would just get them out of the desert.

He would figure everything else out later. Once it came to it.

* * *

**Okay, one down :D **

**I will try to keep the chapters to this short, just so the updating won't take so long. **

**So Seth has some decisions to make. We'll see how that goes once Reid wakes up. Still pondering how his reaction would be to be honest and in which direction I want this to go. Probably best to not have him remember right away...**

**Did you like it?**


	3. Safe House

**:)**

**Thanks so much for reading and commenting, it's really making me want to continue as fast as possible.**

**To answer some of your questions: Yes, there will be an "action plot" if you wanna call it that, that's where Reservoir Dogs comes in. I don't think that will be before the second half of this story though because I want to deal with the repercussions of the first story before that. So, yes, a mix of relationship drama and case fic, mostly in that chronological order. **

**Hopefully you won't get bored with this before I get to the second part :S**

**About the flashforwards, I know they don't seem to hint towards a "happy ending" -and maybe this isn't the story for that, depending on how you would define happy ending- but you needn't worry too much. I tend to be a bit melodramatic. I kinda have an ending in mind for this that I think is very fitting -but I can't tell you of course, so you'll just have to trust me ;)**

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Chapter 2

_He isn't scared when they come for him. Fear is for people who still have anything to lose. _

_He closes his eyes as he waits, suddenly reminded of that faraway night in the bar when he was sitting in that bathroom, borderline suicidal, pondering whether there was any point at all in living on, only the thought of Spencer keeping him halfway sane. _

_He isn't foolish enough to do the same thing now. _

_He knows there is nothing for him beyond this point. Wherever he will go from here –even if they let him live- it will be someplace he won't ever see Spencer again, and this time he knows with perfect clarity that that is not something he will be able to move past, to live without. Even after everything that has crashed and burned around him, after seeing both of them destroyed by what he has done, even with what Spencer has become, what he has made him, he's still the light in a sea of ever oppressing darkness, his beacon, his raison d'être. _

_Without him there is only darkness. Without him he might as well be dead._

_He should feel afraid of losing him, he knows, but right then and there, with days lying between the last time they've seen each other and now, he can finally see clearly what he's known all along. _

_He can't lose something he's never truly had. _

_And being afraid of letting go of a mere illusion is just foolish. _

_It hurts anyway. Like a bullet in his chest._

_xxx_

Night fell and Spencer still hadn't moved, utterly still in his seat while Seth took them further away from the bar mile by mile.

Slowly but surely, Seth was starting to worry about that, wondering if it was an exceptionally bad sign. Worried, he reached out, pressing two fingers to the kid's pulse point just to reassure himself he was alright. Startled, he realized how hot the skin under his fingers was.

Damn, the kid was burning up.

Was that why he wasn't waking up?

He frowned, lightly caressing Spencer's cheek again before taking his hand back and driving faster. The sooner they arrived, the better.

At least, he had finally thought of somewhere to go. An old acquaintance lived nearby. Not the best neighborhood or company –but then again, he wasn't either. It would be fine. He knew how to handle those people there. He'd just have to make sure Spencer was alright there until…well, whatever came after this night.

Another half hour later, he finally stopped in front of a familiar little brick house at the outskirts of a small village the name of which he'd forgotten.

He looked out the windshield as he killed the engine, thinking about the last time he'd been here. It had been with Richie, back before prison. Carlos, the owner, was a middle-aged Mexican in the business of harboring small theft criminals and supplying them with whatever they needed for their jobs. The house was far off enough to not be noticed by the cops but close enough to the border to be interesting to all sorts of shady people. Carlos lived well on offering overpriced rooms and foods to them while they laid low.

Seth got out of the car.

Maybe he was still in business. But even if not, the guy still owed him for this and that –he would have to take him in even without payment. Not like he wouldn't be able to pay. He thought of the suitcase he'd taken from the BAU jeep –they wouldn't miss the ransom money and technically it had been intended for him anyways. Which didn't mean he'd waste it on Carlos.

Speaking of the devil, just then the front door of the house opened and a wrinkled, dark face peeked out, almost unidentifiable in the dark. "Who's there?"

"The devil himself, come to pick you up, you lowlife son of a bitch," Seth scoffed. He felt dead tired, and frankly nervous about standing outside in the darkness, but he made an effort to be enough of his usual self to be recognizable.

"Seth? Holy hell, is that really you?" Carlos hurried out onto the street at the sound of his voice, a wide grin on his face, "Fuck, man. You been on the news constantly!"

He walked up to him, quickly eyeing the car, then the road they'd come on, "You don't have any feds tailing ya, do you?"

Seth shook his head, "Nope, lost 'em. I need to stay here for a while though, just until the whole thing's blown over."

"Sure, sure, my friend," Carlos was quick to shake off his worries, "Come on in, I always have room for you."

He made to guide him towards the house but Seth stopped him, jerking his chin towards the car. "I'm not alone."

"Richie with you?"

"No." He shook his head, swallowing down the tension he was suddenly feeling as he walked over to the car, opening the door on the passenger side. Carlos followed him over and cursed under his breath when he looked at Spencer.

"Shit, isn't that-?"

Before he could say anything else, Seth grabbed his arm hard, fixating him intently with the darkest expression he could muster. "Can I count on you?"

It worked, like always. Carlos wasn't a man with great nerves, or vast amounts of courage. He held up his hands reassuringly.

"Sure, man. Hey, you know you can trust me. Not one word is gonna leave my lips. If you want, no one is ever going to find him again…"

"No," Seth might have shaken his head a little too quickly, but at least his dark expression remained, "No. He needs a doctor and a bed."

"He with you?" Carlos asked, now looking slightly confused by his demeanor. He looked over Spencer's bloodied face and clothes, then did the same with Seth's, but kept his mouth shut about it.

"Not exactly," Seth evaded him, looking down at the kid, "Look, I'll figure it all out in the morning. I'll make sure he won't be any trouble."

"If you say so, man," Carlos shrugged after a moment of indecision and eyeing Seth's passenger warily.

Secretly relieved, Seth just nodded and bent down to maneuver Spencer into his arms, trying not to shake him too much. The young man's head fell against his neck and Seth automatically cradled him closer, fighting to keep a blank face in front of Carlos.

Ignoring Carlos' puzzled expression, he carried him over to the house, following the Mexican into a spare room in the back of the house with no windows and a simple bed as the only furniture. He put his light charge down on it carefully, pulling the blanket over him. Then he bent over the bed to feel Spencer's temperature again, frowning when he realized it seemed to have gone up and that his breathing seemed a little off as well.

He could feel Carlos' eyes glued to his back though and so he straightened up quickly, keeping on his dispassionate face. Luckily it seemed to work as Carlos' expression quickly went back to normal. Whatever he was getting from what he was seeing, it apparently wasn't disconcerting enough to him to call Seth out on it.

All the better. Seth needed them to be able to stay here but he didn't think he'd have the energy to get into an argument or fight right now.

"You know a doctor you can trust around here?"

"One that will make house calls and not blab about who his patients are? Sure. I'll call him now."

"Great," Seth nodded as they walked toward the door, clapping the smaller man on the shoulder in a familiar gesture, "In the meantime have you got anything to drink in this sad excuse for a house?"

Carlos laughed, distracted from Spencer easily enough. "Glad to see you haven't changed one bit, amigo. I have just the thing."

Seth didn't reply as he followed the man into a tiny, dimly lit kitchen. It was about as chaotic as the rest of the house, with used dishes and empty bottles all over. In the hallway there had been several jackets and shoes, tipping him off to the presence of other visitors, and contraband poorly hidden in every corner.

Just like he remembered.

Here, in the kitchen, at a small table were two men, both burly and in shabby clothes, their faces obscured by the shadows. They only looked up briefly when he walked in, then went back to ignoring everything around them. Carlos did just the same, searching around a little until he found a half empty liquor bottle and two glasses.

He nodded his head towards the terrace, motioning for Seth to follow him. "Come on," he said, "While we drink you can tell me what the hell happened to you."

Seth followed him silently, suddenly feeling terribly exhausted. What had happened to him? He wouldn't know where to start.

How as he supposed to explain something he didn't even understand himself?

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**Again, short, but I figure I ought to get this rolling while the story is still young :)**

**R&R please**


	4. Pointless recap of things past

**Hey :) **

**Chapter 3. This is going slow Im starting to realize that. Probably cause two chapters here are what should just be one. Sorry about that in advance, I will try to move this along faster in the future.**

**Thanks for reviewing everybody. I heart you :))**

* * *

Of course he didn't tell Carlos the whole story. Not even close.

It would have been stupid and pointless. Seth knew that no matter where he would go in his life from now on -no one else would _ever_ believe _that _story. They'd sooner lock him into a mental institution.

On top of that, Carlos wasn't someone he trusted per se. An acquaintance that went way back, yes, but that meant little to nothing in his world, except maybe that the man was just as crooked as he.

No. He knew where he was at here and it wasn't among friends. Especially not with all those other thugs and low lives hanging around and a bounty on his head. He wouldn't be able to relax with any of them around -but he'd had nowhere better to go so there hadn't been a choice. He would just have to be careful, stay alert.

Normally, he and Richie would have kept wake in shifts in a case like this. As it was, he was alone.

It was almost frightening how easy it was to go back to his old routine despite that fact, even with the glaring gap of Richie by his side, having his back. He acted like he always did. No-nonsense attitude but good company nonetheless, just enough that the man didn't notice how concerned he was about always having a wall in his back, or how often his eyes flickered to the night sky, and then back to the house, to where the kid was.

No matter how exhausted and beat and rattled he really felt, this was no place to show that kind of weakness. So he stayed calm on the outside and told the man as much as necessary between old drinking stories, downing liquor with him until he felt pleasantly numb. Not drunk of course, as much as he might have wanted to. He couldn't afford that.

In the end, Carlos only found out that he'd run into trouble in some bar, that Richie was dead and that he needed the kidnapped FBI agent in the house alive and well, that he wouldn't cause any trouble like running or alerting the cops to this place. He didn't elaborate on the reasons, simply letting Carlos assume what he would. His own safety was all the man would really care about in the end anyway. He knew that normally he wouldn't have allowed him to stay here under those circumstances –too risky if the police was searching the area- but apparently he was at least somewhat convincing in his promises and, well, Carlos _did _owe him. Big time.

Although his nerves were wearing thin, he kept the conversation shallow until finally the doctor showed up. Then he watched the nervous old guy fuss over the kid with a rusty stethoscope and swabbing alcohol, his scowl deepening with every second once he realized that the doctor wasn't paying much attention to the fever, more concerned with the wild array of scratches and bruises he was being presented with. While he was working he kept shaking his head, murmuring into his beard as he touched discolored skin and abrasions carefully. In between he kept stealing reproachful glaces at Seth.

Seth stared down at the bed motionlessly, seeing what the doctor was seeing and finally unable to keep memories from flashing in front of his eyes.

_'Please, Seth, stop-' Another wince as his fingers dug into fair skin with too much force, a pain filled gasp, frightened eyes… 'Let go, please…'_

_Richard's fingers, sharp claws tearing open that same skin, Spencer, screaming…_

He shook his head harshly. _Not now._

It didn't help. Suddenly, it was too much.

"Out," he rasped.

He needed to be alone, didn't want that man here. He didn't need someone to tell him how things looked, how guilty he looked, or was. He barely waited until the doctor had patched up the worst before he threw him out without another word. Carlos looked mildly put off but didn't protest.

He waited till the door was closed then he shrugged, indifferent, "Forget him, eh? Ain't like he hasn't seen worse running with us. He's not gonna say anything." He scratched behind his ear, quiet for a moment. "Now, Seth, I hate to bring this up again, but ya know, I can't have this boy running around the neighborhood, drawing attention-"

"Does he look like hes gonna go anywhere anytime soon?" Seth snapped, irate.

Carlos grimaced, undeterred, "Ya know what I mean. Whatever you want him for, I don't care, man, but here, lemme sleep a little calmer tonight, alright?" With that he walked over the bed and half crawled under it before Seth could even think about stopping him. When he came back out he was holding a bundle of thick rope in his hand. He got to his feet and pushed it into Seth's hand. "Here ya go. Just in case, eh?"

Seth stared at the rope in his hand with a blank face, unmoving for almost a minute. His fingers clenched around it as he glanced over at the bed, his jaw tightening. "I'll see you tomorrow," he finally got out from behind clenched teeth. He didn't look up again, just waited until Carlos finally took the hint and left the room.

The second the door clicked shut, Seth all but rushed over to it, locking it from the inside. Then he sank against it, his forehead pressed against the thick wood, his hand balled to a fist against its surface. Keeping a frustrated scream inside, he threw his arm back, wanting to smash his fist into the wood. In the last second he stopped himself, instead throwing the rope in his hand across the room with all his strength.

Then he sank back against the door and closed his eyes, breathing heavily. J_ust breathing_ for a small fraction of forever, one hand clutching the door knob, the other the gun at his waist. Fuck, fuck, _fuck!_ He tried to fight the sudden swell of rage mixed with panic, of sheer misery coming up, but it was filling his chest, cutting off his air-

_-fine. You're fine. Calm down._

He couldn't. It was too hard to keep control anymore suddenly, to keep focus, to keep the disturbing memories off the forefront of his brain. It was all back suddenly, all merciful numbness gone in an instant.

_The sound of impact as he pistol whipped the kid in the bank, seeing him being thrown to the ground, blood on his temple, his face first crunched up in pain, then in fear as he dragged him to his feet, pressed the gun to his throat and roughly tied his hands with duct tape...weak hands pushing at his as he let handcuffs snap shut around a thin wrist..._

He was suddenly sure he was going to be sick_. _Motionlessly he stared straight ahead, to where the rope was lying. He wanted to feel outraged at Carlos' suggestion -but what else had he done so far? Coersion, blackmailing, outright bullying and terror. _That_ was it. The extent of the relationship he had with the _one_ person-

And now to make everything worse, he had dragged the kid here, into more danger, into the house of someone who wouldn't bat an eyelash if he never saw him leave said house alive again, who explicitly expected him to suffer more and didn't even care. He stared at the rope. There were stains on it, brown like dried blood...

_Nothing_ was fine. How could anything be fine…?

It took forever before he thought he could move safely. Only then did he drag himself over to the bed, sinking down at the edge of it with much too heavy legs. Spencer remained motionless, oblivious, his breaths so flat that they were almost inaudible. In the grey light around them, he looked even paler than he had that morning, unsettlingly small and lost under the blankets.

Unable to stop himself, Seth found himself staring at the marks of abuse that the doctor had fussed over. They stood out in stark contrast to his skin, glaring reminders of what he'd done. He could account for them all. Inflicted by Richard, thugs, vampires, and him, but every single one caused by _his_ actions.

The sight wiped away his last wall of defense, all blissful numbness definitely gone now. It felt like every nerve in his body was suddenly being lacerated. His hands clenched in the bed sheets as he stared at the kid with pain in his eyes and chest. God, what had he done. Never, never in his life had he felt emotions this intense for anyone who wasn't his family, never had he cared about anyone…and then, once he had, what had he done? This was the result of his infatuation, his obsession…

Unsteadily he reached up, tracing the outline of a cheekbone darkened by his very hand only days ago…

How had he ever managed to delude himself into thinking that what had happened between them in that bathroom would change any of this? What he had done back there was so much worse than the visible bruises even… His mind flashed back to Spencer, face flushed with heat and wet with tears as he tried to catch his breath, fingers digging into Seth's shoulders without him knowing if they were pushing or pulling…

He hadn't asked him for consent –not that the kid would have really been able to give any in his state- not after that first moment. It probably wouldn't have mattered if he'd said no verbally. After all, he'd known all throughout that the answer would be no, always no, if it weren't for the circumstances. It hadn't mattered. He had been unable to stop himself, almost as out of it as Spencer was, reason buried somewhere alongside his brother. He had just taken and taken, not thinking about the damage he was doing, just about what he needed-

He let himself sink forward until his forehead was resting on the covers, his burning eyes pressed closed tightly.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into the darkness, "I didn't… shit. I know it means shit, kid, but I am. Wake up. You can wake up, I promise I won't…not anym-"

He broke off mid sentence. How often had he sworn to himself that he wouldn't hurt him any more? And in the end he still had. It was easy right now to mean it, with Spencer looking like this…so injured and helpless… But hadn't he also looked like that down in that bathroom? Of course he had, and still it had just overcome him-

He had to let Spencer go. He _had_ to. If not he would only keep hurting him, and hurting him, and hurting him. He knew he would if he wasn't stopped.

He swallowed hard, fists clenching in the sheets. He'd told himself what he needed to do before, earlier in the car even, but he realized now that he hadn't meant it, hadn't really considered letting Spencer leave his side. Even now, as he was for the first time entirely aware of what he had done, there was still a small part inside of him that simply didn't care, that would result to using any means to tie the kid to him...in any way...

It would be so easy...in time he might just understand, might accept-

_God...no..._

He pushed himself upright hastily, suddenly not even daring to be touching the young man. How fucking sick was he?

It was all too much, the pain, the fatigue and sleep deprivation, the obvious trauma, the vampires, Richie, now _this_...

He sank down till he was sitting on the floor leaning against the bed frame. There he simply sat staring into the dark. There was no sleeping with all of it still so fresh in his head, every sound, every impression blazing on his mind, engrained into his body in such a way that every creak made his fingers clench around his gun.

He didn't try to sleep.

He just waited. For what he didn't know. For the kid to wake up, for someone to burst into that door, for it all to be gone with the next blink maybe. For an answer to what he was supposed to do come morning possibly. For it all to become less of a nightmare maybe.

None of that happened of course.

He was still sitting there when the light of dawn came creeping into the room through the crack under the door.

Turning his head he saw that Spencer still hadn't woken up. He didn't know if he was dismayed or relieved. He wanted the kid to get better…but he wouldn't know how to react, what to do...worse, he was scared of his reaction once he woke up. He would want to leave. The thought of him gone-

Before he could think any further, Seth got to his feet and left the room quickly, suddenly desperate for a shower.

If he hurried he'd make it back before anyone else woke, avoiding all risk.

He locked the door behind him anyway, just in case. For _safety reasons. _

If only that were all.

xxx

Spencer didn't wake up during the next five hours.

Later, Seth wouldn't be sure what he had been doing between staring into space and staring at the kid, trapped in his sleep-deprived mind to a point where he couldn't even separate his thoughts, or determine what in particular they were about. It was all a whirl of images and tangled emotions, a trance-like state with phases of anger, pain, grief, and depression as he thought about his situation, and lastly blissful numbness all rolled into one.

After noon, he finally made himself snap out of it and leave the room –if only to make sure that Carlos hadn't been up to any shenanigans and to get a better impression of the other people hanging around the house.

They were the usual crowd, everybody in too deep to be able to afford meddling with the others' business. He played a quick game of cards with them when they offered, listening to the radio instead of really paying attention to the game. They didn't even look up when the news reporter came on, informing America that two of its most notorious criminals had been killed under yet unknown circumstances, having taken seven law enforcement officers with them.

After a while he got up, fished a bottle of whiskey out of Carlos' stash, went onto the porch and drank to his own death. Even to him it was pathetic, sad and pointless…just like his life had been. And how it would be from now on. In a way it was fitting. In a way he was dead. A dead man walking.

He thought about just downing the bottle while he was at it, to act as somber as he felt and wallow, maybe break something. Several somethings. Smash something in until he started feeling better or until the booze started to take effect and it all went away. probably the latter.

He didn't for one reason and one reason only. Spencer would leave him, yes. But he wouldn't leave Spencer here alone, not in his state, not in this house. If there was one -good- thing left he cared about, it was that.

When Spencer woke up, it probably wouldn't be the best idea to be drunk. He would need a hell of a lot more self-control than he had already to do what he needed to do. After wards…when it was all over, when he was truly alone, finished, without a goal left, then he could do whatever he wanted.

As he stared at the bottle, those depressing thoughts swirling in his head, interrupted by other, more hopeful ones that he did his best to suppress because they all included the kid staying -he realized that it was probably best not to go back into the room right away. There was probably only so much staring at the kid he'd be able to take.

He didn't want to go sit with the other men again though, so in lack of an alternative he went to check on the car and sort through everything he'd taken with him from the parking lot by the bar. It seemed utterly pointless considering everything but maybe it would take his mind off of things...

It was about an hour of sitting in the car and going through the maps and documents he'd found with the BAU agents' things before he managed to calm himself down to a near normal level.

He was just reading through a case file that had his and Richie's name on it, lost in the reports in it, when a sudden commotion inside the house made him jump in startlement.

His head snapped up, his eyes fixated on the house. That noise…familiar voice…

It took him another split second to realize he hadn't locked the door to Spencer's room.

* * *

**Okay that was it with the inner monolouges I swear. Next chapter is Spencer waking up. I still dont know how to go about that though so im afraid the next chapter may take a little longer to write. Sit tight :)**


	5. Element of Blank

**Element Of Blank **

_'Pain has an element of blank;_  
_It cannot recollect_  
_When it began, or if there was_  
_A time when it was not._

_It has no future but itself,_  
_Its infinite realms contain_  
_Its past, enlightened to perceive_  
_New periods of pain.'_

-Emily Dickinson

xxx

Spencer woke with a start, his whole body locked in tension from a nightmare he couldn't remember. His eyes snapped open and his brain took in his surroundings within milliseconds, spurred by alarm.

He was lying down, covered by blankets. There was a white ceiling above him and a mattress, a bed under him. It was half dark and utterly quiet all around.

_What? Where?_

He blinked rapidly as he lied there drenched in sweat, muscles so taunt they were aching, with his hands fisted into tangled sheets and his heart racing. For mere seconds he couldn't move at all, frozen as he slowly became aware of three things.

One, he didn't know where he was. This wasn't his room, he didn't remember going to sleep here, surrounded by strange sheets and smells.

Two, he was terrified, still frozen on his back with his heart and breath much too fast and irregular.

And three, he had no idea why.

That realization alone was frightening. But as much as he tried, he couldn't remember what had him so afraid, if it had been a bad dream or something else. Taking a deep breath, he tried to focus, to find a sense, a memory….

_Hissing, screams, red tinting his vision…pain, so much pain…_

Spencer shot up in the bed, his fear suddenly spiking -only to immediately curl in on himself when pain and dizziness hit him at the same time. What had interpreted as soreness before he suddenly perceived as real biting pain. Whimpering, he hugged his knees, helpless as the room spun around him.

It took several moments before he dared to lift his head again, glancing at his surroundings.

There was no one there…_nothing_ although he had been so sure just then that any second something was going to grab him…

_What was that? A memory?_

He blinked. It was gone now, that flash of impressions, merely the shadow of a nightmare.

All that was left was an empty room that was small and plain, with only the bed opposite to a closed door. There was nothing else in it, not even window. The only light was coming from the wide crack under the door. He recognized none of it.

Spencer drew in a shaky breath as a billon questions shot into his mind at the same time. Why couldn't he remember any of this? Where was he? Why?

A strange room, pain all over…his head, he couldn't think-

Had someone brought him here? There was no one else to be seen, and no sounds to be heard…

His eyes flickered over the room once more, looking for anything, any indicator, something that might remind him….there…what was that…there in the corner…what…? His heart leaped, stomach clenching when he realized he was looking at _rope_, the fibers dirtied-

Staring, he suddenly couldn't swallow. Panic was now truly starting to sink its claws into him, unrelenting and ice cold. Shaking, Spencer scooted back on the bed until his back hit the wall, drawing the blanket further around him.

What was happening here? And why couldn't he remember? He was trying, despite the headache threatening to split his skull in half and his blurred vision…but the more he did the more he realized he didn't remember much of anything. Not only that he couldn't tell how he might have gotten here or who had brought him to this room, he also couldn't remember where he should be instead, or who with…

He couldn't think of _anything_ concrete.

Nothing.

"What's happening…?" he whispered, bringing up a hand to grip at his messed up hair.

He flinched when a touch to his temple resulted in a sharp sting. Hands shaking, he felt the area gingerly, finding that the skin there was broken. A head wound…was that why he couldn't remember? But why…who would-?

He let his arm fall back down, and, looking at it, belatedly noticed a bandage around his wrist and, _god_, _bruises_ in the shape of fingers all over his arm…

Spencer felt his breathing becoming even more irregular as he sat there and stared at his arm. His heart was racing so fast by now that he thought it was about to jump out of his chest.

_No, no, no… _

He didn't need to remember details to know that he wasn't alright, that he was right to be distressed. Something awful had happened, he could feel that in his bones. Literally.

He had to do something. He couldn't stay here, not without even knowing…

It took several minutes before his body even seemed to receive the command his brain was sending to his legs. Then slowly, reluctantly, he scooted towards the edge of the bed and put his feet on the floor.

He pushed to his feet, only to immediately be overcome by another wave of dizziness. Suppressing a groan, he steadied himself with one hand on the wall until the spell passed. Even then, the soreness in his body remained, reminding him with every movement that he wasn't alright. He glanced down at himself, gasping when he saw the state of his clothes. He touched a stain on his shirt with trembling fingers, somehow knowing without a doubt that it was blood. He closed his eyes, fighting down nausea and panic with all he had. He needed to keep going, get out of here…

It took an agonizingly long minute before he finally reached the door. There he leaned against it, dizzy, and held his breath as he listened for any sounds outside.

Nothing…maybe somewhere further off the sound of steps… he waited until he heard nothing for a long while, then, with all the courage he had he grabbed the door knob and twisted. Praying it wouldn't be locked he held his breath and pushed.

The door opened with a creak.

Spencer didn't know whether to jump in fear or joy at the sound.

At least that. That made it a little less scary. He hadn't been locked in. that made breathing slightly easier at least. A little more courageous he peeked outside, finding an empty hallway of what looked like a pretty standard house. Still, nothing that seemed familiar.

He slipped outside, looked around and then slowly and silently sneaked into the hallway on bare feet. There were several small and empty if slightly chaotic rooms, all of them light and with windows that let in warm sunlight. In what looked like the living room there even was a large glass door leading onto what looked like a terrace. There weren't any locks he could see, all of it open. That too ceased his anxiety a little. At least he hadn't walked into a dungeon-

Just as he thought that he was suddenly grabbed by the arm from behind, hard. "Que demonios-?"

Spencer all but jumped out of his skin, flinching away in shock, but the grip only tightened as he was whirled around to find himself face to face with a man he'd never seen before. Spencer stared at him, heart immediately racing again.

The man had tan skin and a dark mustache, a small built but muscled limbs. There was a deep frown on his unfamiliar face, an expression that was deeply unsettling for some reason. He tried to pull away again, to no avail.

"What are you doing out? Shit!" The man cursed in Spanish before suddenly yelling down the corridor, "Seth! Ey, Seth, get your ass in here!"

He ignored Spencer's startled reaction, not even trying to talk to him but instead roughly hauling him down the corridor without another word. Spencer yelped in shock, instinctively trying to fight the painful grip but the man moved him like it was nothing.

Before he knew it he'd been dragged into a kitchen, as messy as the rest of the house but not empty. There were three more men in there, all of them dressed similarly to the first, and with very similar expressions. Spencer tensed all over as he felt their eyes measuring him up. He didn't recognize any of them but they looked…like the kind of person you'd want to avoid after dark…or even before dark. Not for one second did any of them look like they might help him or worry about his state. They looked indifferent at best, interested at worst.

Panic back and growing, Spencer fought to get free harder, tried to take a step back, out of the door, but found himself immediately being dragged back. He swayed, barely catching himself as his vision blurred.

"Stop that!" he was yelled at.

"Please, let go…" he pleaded with the man holding him, trying to get out of his grip, "What is this…who are you, I-"

"Callate," the man snapped, not even looking at him. His eyes were searching the room, and Spencer froze when he saw them lingering on first duct tape and then -a kitchen knife.

_Hard fingers wrapped around his throat, cutting off his air, the cutting edge of a knife biting into his skin…_

Spencer's throat closed up in terror at the image this put into his head, sudden harsh memories flashing before his eyes. _Oh God._ He needed to get away from here, from these people. Right now….

He struggled harder, despite feeling like he was about to faint any second, hyperventilating and completely overwrought from what was happening.

"Ya need some help there, Carlos?" one of the men, much taller and burlier than the first asked, getting out of his seat by the table. There was a gun tucked into his pants in plain sight.

Spencer stared at him, color washing out of his face. He cringed when the man came closer, struggling harder when suddenly a voice coming from behind them interrupted him.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, Carlos?"

Everybody's head snapped around at the deep, angry voice from behind them to find yet another tall and dark stranger standing in the doorway. His black eyes were blazing with rage, jaw twitching and hands clenched to fists by his sides. He was fixating the man holding Spencer with a murderous expression.

Spencer felt the air around him bristling with tension as the man holding him and everybody else in the room froze for a brief moment, clearly apprehensive. Rightfully so it seemed. The man looked positively livid, his right hand now touching the gun tucked into his belt. Spencer shuddered, feeling his blood run cold at the sight. More guns, more trigger happy, violent, shady-

The man's eyes met his suddenly, fixating him and he flinched back, startled and fearfully. Immediately the grip around his arm tightened, his pained whimper enough to break the sudden silence that had fallen.

"There you are, Seth," the man holding him snapped out of his brief lapse, frowning deeply, "Here, I think this belongs to you. So much for no trouble, eh?"

With that he shoved Spencer forward roughly, right into the man in the doorway. Spencer gasped, stumbling, but before he could even try to catch himself, strong hands seized his upper arms and held him steady. Then, before he could even process what was happening, he was being pulled out of the kitchen, back into the hallway. The man -all that was visible of him now were broad shoulders and a black suit- all but rushed down the corridor without so much as a word, leaving Spencer to stumble after him if he didn't want to fall.

They were halfway back to the room that he had woken up in when Spencer snapped out of his shock.

_What- No!_ No, how had this just gone from bad to worse? This man, clearly frightening even to those dangerous people, was now pulling him towards- what? He didn't even know. Guns, ropes, more pain for all he knew…

"Let me go!" Spencer clawed at the fingers around his wrist to no avail, trying to pull away frantically, "Let go, let me-"

But the man ignored him, his grip uncompromising, not saying a word until he'd opened the door to that room and pulled him inside.

Spencer jumped, froze at the sound of the door falling shut, watching with wide eyes as the man turned around to lock the door and take the key.

The action turned his stomach in its finality and his heart fell as he realized he was trapped.

* * *

**Almost 2,500 words. Not great I know but I had to make a cut somewhere, otherwise you wouldn't see another chapter before next month. Also because I am still fighting with that first actual scene between them. Obviously Spencer had to wake up less than calm after everything he went through. Even if his mind doesn't actively remember, his body does. **

**Well, we'll see how it goes from this point on. I'm worried about Seth acting out of character to be honest. What do you think how it should go?**

**R&R please**


	6. Fragments

**You have no idea how many times I went over this. Well, here it is, finally a chaper that is nearing an acceptable length. **

**And know that I only pulled through cause you wrote me such nice comments last week. Thanks so much again, you have no idea how thrilled I am that someone actually wants to read this. **

**Now, I will give this to you, ignoring the fact that it feels much too drawn out. It seems I just don't know how to not do that. Hang in there, it does go somewhere by the end of the chapter...I think.**

* * *

It all happened too fast to process.

One second Spencer was coming to terms with the fact that he was apparently in a house full of armed criminals without an intact memory of how he'd gotten there, the next he was being dragged into the same windowless room he'd woken up in by one of them, someone with a gun and a grip of steel and now he was trapped in here with just that guy and his heart was beating so fast it was leaving him dizzy and breathless and…oh god, no, this wasn't happening…

Spencer felt himself shaking as he backed away from the door on unsteady legs, eyes fixed on the stranger's back. He could see stars dancing in front of his eyes by now, tell tale signs that he shouldn't be moving -or standing- but he ignored it, afraid to even blink, utterly focused on the fight or flight reaction his body was experiencing. He still had no idea what was going on. All he knew was that the danger he'd felt a minute ago might have actually increased…that man was blocking the way to the door, leaving him literally trapped-

_Trapped. Nowhere to go. There was only darkness, damp cold walls and a narrow ceiling in the weak light but he knew that, knew it even before there were fingers around his throat, cutting off his air and he couldn't breathe anymore…and it felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest…he was going to die, die… _

Spencer shuddered, assaulted yet again by sudden images that he couldn't categorize. They flashed in front of his inner eye, only increasing his fear. He might not remember everything but he knew enough to know that he was feeling this way for a reason, that he needed to get away, get to safety….

He couldn't though. Not without getting past that man first.

Just then, the man turned around to face him. He looked to be about thirty, with dark hair and a tan, some stubble on his face covering a strong jaw. Spencer barely glanced at his face, too preoccupied with registering how tall and broad in comparison to him the man was, easily twice his weight in muscle with a tattoo on his neck that looked like a souvenir from prison, hands much too close to the gun at his belt…hands that even without a weapon had been like steel…

_Hands on him, bruising, punishing…he couldn't move, couldn't get away, helpless to make it stop- _

Spencer blinked rapidly as the memory flashes –at least that was what he thought they were- were coming faster and thicker now, each and every one of them so very real and frightening that he felt he was experiencing what he was seeing in real time.

"No," he croaked, voice trembling as he tried unsuccessfully to fight down the rising panic, "no, no, no-"

He startled when at his mumbled words the man's expression tightened, his brows furrowing, and he suddenly stepped towards him, a hand coming up as if to grab him again.

Spencer recoiled instantly, stumbling back until he felt the wall in his back, fearful wide eyes watching the other's every movement.

At his violent reaction, the man stopped in his tracks, eyes widening slightly as something passed over his features, an emotion too fleeting to decipher. For a moment they merely stared at each other, thick silence filling the room.

Then, slowly, the stranger lifted his hands so Spencer could see his upturned palms. "Kid, I know you're freaking out right now, but-"

But Spencer wasn't listening. All he saw was that the man was still moving closer, that he was suddenly almost within reaching distance-

Acting on instinct, he took the one chance he saw, darting past the man and diving for the door as quickly as his feet would allow, fleeing.

He made it to the door, his hand already on the door knob –then strong hands grabbed him from behind, arms wrapping around him and pulling him back against a hard chest. That was all it took for the panic to fully take over. Spencer cried out, fighting and thrashing in the man's grip with all the strength he could muster. "No! Let me go, let go, don't-"

_It was going to start all over, no getting away from the horror, the pain, the blood…any second now it would start all over- _ He clawed at the arms restraining him desperately as he tried to get away, but it was no use. It merely resulted in him being grabbed even more tightly, his arms pinned by his sides by a tight embrace, immobilizing him.

"Stop. Spencer, listen to me- Stop!"

He wasn't even registering the man's words. He couldn't breathe, panic choking him. The restrictive hold, that dark voice right by his ear, hot breath hitting the back of his neck was reinforcing the sensation of being trapped and crowded. And the man didn't let go, holding him just as effortlessly as if he were a child…

It might have been minutes or second of futile struggling until he finally gave up, too exhausted to do anything but struggle against the hold on him weakly. By then his sight was blurring and there were dark spots dancing in front of his eyes, nausea washing through him. He felt as though his legs might give in at any second, as though he might actually faint right then and there.

Spencer shuddered. Maybe he should just hope he would. Who knew what else-

"Please," he whispered, "please, don't-" He didn't realize he was crying until he heard his own voice cracking, "Please let me go."

He flinched when he felt the arms around him tighten, his captor tensing behind him. For a moment that seemed like an eternity the man was silent, then he moved his head and Spencer could feel his cheek pressing against the side of his temple as he spoke, much too close to his ear.

"I can't do that."

Spencer felt cold spreading through him at those words. Crying silently, he pressed his eyes shut, left shaking and praying.

xxx

Seth had no clue what to do.

He was barely over the shock of realizing that something awful had almost happened back there in the kitchen between Carlos' friends and Spencer and suddenly he had even worse drama to deal with than that.

Back in the kitchen, the only thing stronger than his rage at the situation had been his fear. Fear for Spencer that had blocked out everything else, that had him practically running back to the room, desperate to bring some sort of barrier between them and those men when any other time he certainly would have stayed and gotten into a fight.

Now though, with Spencer shaking and crying in his arms, he was starting to realize that that clearly hadn't been the best reaction on his part considering that Spencer had already looked utterly rattled even without more manhandling.

Crap.

He'd grabbed the kid automatically, hell bent on getting him away from those men. He hadn't thought about being careful or gentle or anything like that. As a result, he was now standing here, with Spencer seemingly about a second away from a full blown panic attack, frantic and pleading, clearly terrified. Shit.

Of course he hadn't expected Spencer to wake up _calm_ exactly_._

After all, waking up in pain and traumatized only to find oneself still in danger and with the one person who had caused one's entire trauma in the first place would hardly be reassuring, and that whole scene with Carlos' thugs out there probably hadn't helped…

But still, he hadn't expected for Spencer to react this violently. To look at him with such fear and dread.

Maybe he shouldn't have been surprised but still it had felt like a punch to the gut to see that. To be reminded of how far the reality of their relationship clearly still was from the fantasy in his head.

It had thrown him of track for a moment, too long apparently because before he'd even been able to try and calm him down, the kid had suddenly bolted, trying to run from the room.

Seth had grabbed him instinctively, knowing he couldn't let him go back out there right now. It had taken him all but three seconds to realize just how bad a move that had been.

Really, really bad.

He could feel Spencer shaking uncontrollably in his arms, frozen in tension with whispered pleas falling from his lips that almost broke his heart in their desperation.

Shit, shit, shit. Seth wanted to scream. Cry too maybe.

This was all wrong.

Of all the scenarios in Seth's head of how this first interaction should go, this was certainly the worst. He'd been planning to explain the situation to Spencer calmly once he woke up, somehow reassure him of his safety enough to not have him freak out too badly once he realized what was outside of his room –but the chance for that had clearly passed now.

Still, he couldn't let him go back out there.

No, he had to get him to calm down enough so he could explain the situation.

Making a decision, he took a deep breath and pushed aside the tension and nagging hurt he felt, to not let Spencer's reaction get to him. He squeezed the kid's shoulder lightly, trying to sound calm and reassuring somehow despite his true feelings. Spencer was so banged up already, the last thing he wanted was to cause him any more pain.

"Hey. Hey, calm down. Spencer, you need to stop fighting me and calm down."

Another shudder, another half sob that made him feel like his heart was being crushed by a hand of steel.

So much for reassuring then. He still couldn't believe that he would cause this bad a reaction- then again, it shouldn't be surprising, should it? Considering everything he'd done…

He pressed his eyes hut for a moment, taking a deep breath. His face pressed against soft burnished locks could have felt so right, his arms around that lithe, slender body so perfect…but even he couldn't fool himself into not seeing reality now.

"You're okay," he brought a hand up to brush over the young man's hair on the side of his head, hating the resulting flinch. "Just listen to me for a moment. I know it doesn't seem like it right now, but you are. I'll let go but I need to sure you won't try to run again. Okay?"

Spencer fought down another sob, clearly fighting to be calm but failing, "Please…who are you? What do you want from me?"

Seth, who had been about to try and explain to Spencer that he needed to calm down despite his presence and stay in the room for his own safety, stopped short, blinking in confusion.

_What-? _

Who-? Had he just heard that right?

Before he could think better off it he loosened his grip on the kid and turned him around by his shoulders, staring at him caught between shock and confusion. Spencer stared back unblinkingly out of teary, frightened eyes, seemingly not breathing.

"What did you-?" Seth blinked slowly, taking in every miniscule expression on the kid's face as his thoughts started to race.

There was fear there alright, but now that he was really looking he realized that something was different. He knew too damn well what Spencer looked like scared, had even learned to read the different reasons for it from the kid's eyes over the past week. Fear with calculation, fear with disdain, fear with pity, fear with anger.

There was none of that now. Not the controlled anxiety of an FBI agent, not the broken expression Spencer had had at the end of their ordeal in the bar.

He was looking at him like-

_'Who are you?'_

Everything clicked into place then.

"Shit," Seth breathed when realization finally hit him, "you still don't remember?"

Spencer didn't reply, but his expression was answer enough.

Seth gulped.

He didn't remember. Still. Which meant he was scared because he'd woken up hurting and in a place he didn't recognize, surrounded by gangsters and because he was currently locked into a room with a stranger and a gun. Not because of-

Seth exhaled, feeling unbidden but nonetheless extreme relief crash down on him… not quite so closely followed by worry this time.

He didn't remember…not anything…not what he'd done…

That meant-

Before he had consciously thought about what he was doing, his body made a decision for him, acting on pure instinct. He let his shoulders fall and his features soften even more, trying not to look as imposing and loosening his grip on the kid's arms a little more.

"Spencer, it's Seth." The only response he got was Spencer pulling away with the little leeway he had. Seth let him take a step back and lean against the door. He still had the key on him after all and the young man looked like he was about to collapse where he was standing. Still, he wasn't about to let this go.

"Hey, kid, look at me," he lifted a hand as though to lift his chin but refrained from actually touching him this time, focused on holding that frightened gaze and keeping his own soft, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you…I was sure you'd have remembered me by now."

Some part of him reminded him none too quietly that what he was saying didn't make much sense, and that it was _wrong_ - but he didn't listen to that part. All he could think of was how Spencer had looked at him in the desert. He'd taken comfort in Seth's presence then…

The mere thought of the kid possibly reacting like that to him again instantly wiped all thoughts of logic and morals from his mind.

For a moment he wasn't sure of anything. He waited, breathlessly, while Spencer stayed pressed against the door, still ghostly pale, just staring at him unblinking and teary eyed like he was expecting him to pounce at any second despite his appeasing gesture.

Seth didn't move, fully focused on not looking intimidating in any way.

It took a long moment, but eventually, something did shift in Spencer's expression, confusion taking hold in it. Hazel eyes scanned his face more closely, looking for something…

"Seth?"

It sounded uncertain, so much that Seth wasn't able to tell if the kid was remembering him or if he was just repeating the name.

Seth took it as a good sign anyway.

"Yeah. You remember me, right?" He tried not to think about the fact that he was making it sound like he should, like it would be reassuring to remember him.

Spencer hesitated, looking terribly conflicted and uncertain now. The look of concentration on his face looked like it must be giving him a headache, but at least he wasn't clutching the doorknob quite as tightly now, distracted.

"I…"

xxx

Every fiber of Spencer's body was screaming at him to run, to get away. He couldn't help it; he was so worked up already, he felt ready to jump at any ever so minuscule movement or change that might mean danger.

Only slowly did his brain start catching up to what was happening, working its way through hazy, tangled thoughts and adrenaline. The man wasn't touching him anymore. Instead he was standing there, trying to…reassure him?

He blinked, confused, trying to form a clear thought despite spells of dizziness and the blood pounding in his ears. He'd been so sure just second ago that this man -_Seth_, he'd said his name was Seth- was going to hurt him somehow. Everything had indicated it.

But he wasn't. Instead he was suddenly all…

Acting like Spencer should know him…and like he shouldn't be afraid because of that…

But he didn't remember…did he?

With the edge of his panic gone, he looked at the man more closely for the first time, his face, his eyes…

An image flashed before his eyes suddenly. _Those same, black eyes on him, same slightly rough voice. 'It's alright.' A supporting arm around his waist. "I've got you."_

_Then he was in a car…turning his head he could see Seth behind the wheel, smoking a cigarette…they were walking into a motel room, eating on the bed, talking…in a diner…_

"Seth," he whispered. Once he actually took the time to think, his thoughts not clouded by panic, he thought he remembered saying that name…remembered those eyes…and the desert, _oh God_, in the desert…he remembered that. He had woken up without orientation, hurting and confused just like now, and Seth had been there, getting him out of the sun, getting him water…

"Seth…I…in the desert, outside that bar-"

He felt his body losing some of its tension with those memories returning. It wasn't much but still it felt like a huge relief. He did know Seth…and the little he remembered didn't seem to indicate that there was need for panicking...

_But_, he stopped himself, _the gun, this place, the whole situation…_

He stared at the man in front of him, conflicted. He wanted to be comforted by this new information, wanted to finally stop feeling like his heart was going to burst out of his chest at any second, wanted to stop being terrified. He felt so tired, ready to drop…but at the same time he was too wound up to even take his eyes off the man.

"That's right," Seth nodded, "We were at that bar and ran into some trouble. You got hurt, hit on the head. Hence the memory loss I guess."

He sounded worried for him, a slight frown on his face.

Spencer didn't answer, didn't move. He didn't know what to do. There were a billion questions he had, with so few memory fragments to go by. He looked at Seth with a mixture of hope and fear, still not sure what to make of him. It did seem like he might know him, like this might just be a big misunderstanding but…

Seth's frown deepened as he took in his wary expression. "Afterwards…we were out in the desert, middle of fucking nowhere, kid. I didn't know how badly you were hurt, so I went to the first place with a bed and a doctor and ended up here. In retrospective obviously not the best idea, but I didn't have a whole lot of options."

He sounded almost apologetic for bringing him here. Logical, too. Like, yes, those men had been really scary but maybe Seth wasn't…except he was, despite his changed demeanor. Except Spencer didn't know how much he could rely his own head right now, not when his gut was still telling him to flee.

"I don't want to be here," he insisted, "This place, those men…"

His eyes flickered to the door behind him, on the other side of which he knew those men still were-

He flinched, his heart missing a beat when suddenly there was a touch to his hand which was still clutching the doorknob. His head snapped around eyes glued to Seth's in alarm despite himself.

Instinctively, he tried to pull his hand away, but Seth held onto it with gentle force and lifted it away from the door, his own large hand wrapped around the thin joints almost gingerly. Spencer's breath caught in apprehension. He couldn't help but expect the grip to tighten again -but nothing of the like happened. Seth just held on lightly, brushing a thumb over the knuckles in a soothing motion.

"I know. I know. Just breathe, okay?" he murmured. His dark eyes were full of worry and hurt as he looked at him, visible among a multitude of other emotions. Spencer shivered at how familiar that gaze on him felt, not sure if that reassured or upset him…

"I know this is fucking scary…waking up like this, with them. But you're sick, you need the rest. It's just till you're better. And those fucks aren't gonna come near you again. They're not gonna touch you again unless they wanna lose a hand."

Spencer did hear the _no_ in that statement first and foremost, along with the underlying darkness in the threat -but he also heard the honest concern and worry in the man's voice, saw the same in his eyes. Seth actually looked like Spencer's state was bothering him, like he meant what he was saying. Like he _was_ a friend, not a threat. …

_'-not going to touch you.'_

He couldn't help but feel like Seth might have told him that before, on another occasion when he'd been equally scared…

And despite the alarm bells still shrilling in his head, Spencer found himself latching onto that instinctively, wanting to believe, desperate for a connection, some proof that he was in fact alright. _Okay, I'm okay. I know him. He wants me to get better. If he wanted to do anything he could have ten times over by now…_

He repeated that mantra about two dozen times in his head before it had any tangible effect. Finally though he did feel a little calmer, a little less scared. His shoulders slumped, adrenaline being replaced by exhaustion as he leaned heavily against the door. His legs sagged under him the second he didn't put conscious effort into standing anymore and he felt himself sinking down the wall. Everything went black for a second then, his vision fading.

The next thing he knew he wasn't leaning against the door anymore. There were strong arms around him, holding him upright and moving him. Seconds later he felt the soft material of cushions…the bed bending under his weight.

Spencer blinked back into awareness with considerable effort, alarm once again sneaking past dizziness and exhaustion as he felt someone bending over him, hands still on him. He tensed, trying to push himself up but found a resistance against his shoulder pushing him back down.

"Hush, it's okay, you're okay." Before Spencer could work up enough energy to start struggling in earnest, Seth moved back to the edge of the bed, giving him space. His voice was still soft and nonthreatening, his touch light. Still…Spencer would have moved, would have wanted to not leave himself this open and helpless had he had the energy.

As it was, he could feel himself already slipping back into unconsciousness, unable to stop it. A single tear slid down his cheek as he once again realized how bad a shape he really was in, how messed up a situation…

"Don't," a warm thumb brushed over his cheek, wiping the tear away before moving on to stroke an errant strand of hair out of his face, "Don't be scared. Nothing's going to happen to you, I swear."

Those words, promises were the last thing he heard before darkness took hold completely.

* * *

**So yeah...slow process. I really hope that Spencer's reaction makes sense this way. I'm not an expert in neuroscience (surprise :P) but maybe it does happen that even though someone doesnt remember a traumatizing event they are still traumatized, and that their brain blocks out all the bad memories in order to protect itself thus leaving only good ones. **

**Either way, Seth will have some splainin' to do but I don't know if he will sabotage himself much there. So yeah, a second chance for them -if Charlos and his gang don't get inbetween that. We'll see :P **

**For now I gotta figure out what excatly to make Spencer remember (after all he and Seth had a lot of shared experiences) and what conclusions he will draw from it. **

**Thanks for reading!**


	7. Leap of Faith

**Another long chapter :D**

**Next one will probably be shorter, I just couldn't cut this off before I did, it wouldn't have made sense.**

**Thanks for reviewing: **

**Reidemption: I just get a kick out of your reviews. I dont think anyone is a bigger supporter of Seth than you. Sure, he's totally entiteled to doing whatever is nessecary for this relationship to work. He's Seth after all. :D **

**scotjane: thanks for the vote of confidence. We'll see how long Seth can keep his promise.**

**Miaka92: Yes, it'll be interesting to see how their relationship will be under these changed circumstances. I don't know how fast he'll remember. Maybe I'll drag it out a bit :)**

**Billie: Maybe? lol**

** sheetamoon, 68luvcarter, BloodyRosie and Veridis :-***

* * *

Seth knew his expression was frightening enough to scare even the devil as he entered the kitchen. It wasn't much of an effort to go from the earnest, safe impression he had just given Spencer to what he did best.

He felt the change of course, registered once again that he was balancing between two extremes, but it wasn't overly hard.

Maybe because neither was a lie.

He was extremely worried about Spencer's state, concerned with getting him better -but he was also extremely pissed at Carlos and, aware of the circumstances and what they required, he pushed those softer, weaker emotions into the back of his mind for the moment, back where memories of his childhood and Richie where stored.

This wasn't the time or place for either. Instead he let the side of him that dealt with problems come forth, the part that wasn't hindered by things like empathy or fear or love. Better that way really, he didn't want to think about what had happened with Spencer and the consequences of that right now. He had to be rational now, had to act in…their? Yes, _their_ best interest. And that was clearly to present a strong front, let these thugs know not to fuck with him.

He actually took glee in the sight of Carlos immediately getting to his feet once he saw him, apprehension clear even underneath a thick mask of annoyance.

"What the hell was that, eh?" The Mexican threw both arms in the air to vent his anger, backed up by the fact that the rest of the men were behind him, looking equally bewildered and upset about what had happened with Spencer a while ago.

_They_ might not know the kid was an FBI agent -they wouldn't have just been standing there glaring in that case –but it was clear that seeing the scared young man had had alarm bells ringing in their heads. They were afraid their safety might be compromised by a loose end.

Seth ignored them. He didn't care about their individuals troubles. All he cared about was that Spencer had almost gotten hurt.

"That's what I wanna know," he snapped, glaring dangerously at his old acquaintance, "because to me it looked like you were getting into my business when I specifically told you to stay the fuck out of it!"

"Stay ou-? Seth! The boy was running around the house free, he-"

"Whoever said he couldn't? I told you to trust me, didn't I? So when I tell you he's not a risk, he's not a risk!"

"Seth, he's-"

"_Not. A risk_." Seth cut him off abruptly, if only to stop the man from revealing too much to the others. "I'm gonna say this one more time, Carlos," he pressed out from behind clenched teeth, eyes flashing dangerously, "He's with _me_. _I_ talk to him, _I_ deal with him. Not you, not anyone else."

Carlos growled, clearly intimidated by his behavior but he wouldn't give up quite yet, "He's with you, eh? Didn't look like it to me."

Everybody was listening in to their conversation much too interested, eyes wandering between him and Carlos.

Seth just stared at him coldly. "I don't give a shit. Don't cross me if you know what's good for you."

xxx

When Spencer woke for the second time he was drenched in sweat and immediately alert to his situation. There was no brief period of disorientation this time, no confusion.

He drew in a sharp breath as his short term memory reminded him of what had happened, eyes snapping open, body going rigid.

The room, the bed, still the same.

Not long ago he'd woken up in this same spot without a memory, hurting…only to be found by those men in the house, men with guns who had been about to hurt him when…_Seth_.

Seth.

That name flashing through his mind, that one distinct memory was the only thing that kept him from outright panicking all over again right then.

_Seth_…he remembered…how he'd completely lost it, so sure that the man would hurt him, fear spurred by the gun, the rope, the locked door, by Seth grabbing him, refusing to let him leave…but he also remembered that when given the chance he hadn't done anything but try to get him to calm down, to get him to believe that he needn't be scared of him. And then…

Spencer blinked. Everything was sort of fuzzy from there, probably because his body had finally rebelled and he had fainted soon after.

His heart sped up when he recalled the last thing he'd been aware of: Being placed back here in bed with Seth bending over him. Spencer gulped. He hadn't been sure of anything then, not even aware enough anymore to make up his mind about whether or not he believed the man when he told him he'd be alright…

He shuddered, cringing at the thought of just having blacked out in a situation like that, with so little to be sure of.

He forced himself to take a deep breath just so he wouldn't start to hyperventilate again, instead consciously focusing on his own physical state.

Surprisingly, it actually seemed like he _was_ okay. Not dead, not worse…

He was still sore, feeling weak and feverish…but even that was a little better than before. Definitely not worse. He could still move freely too and there wasn't an immediately threat visible…was there?

Spencer's eyes flitted over the small room quickly, almost immediately settling on the figure by the door. His heart skipped a beat in the second before he recognized _him_.

Seth was sitting by the door with his back against the wall, eyes closed and head leaned against the wall.

For a moment Spencer just stared at him, not sure whether the sight unsettled or reassured him. On the one hand his first instinct was to get scared again. On the other hand..._he wasn't worse_. Nothing had happened just like he'd been promised. The man was just sitting there letting him sleep.

Spencer let out a breath he hadn't noticed he'd held, relaxing significantly at that thought.

_You're okay. He said you were…he promised…See? …-Yes, but are you really sure…? What about the gun and the others? -He said this was the only option, and he got you away from them. Lots of people have guns, it doesn't have to mean anything. - But-_

Little voices inside his head were fighting as he stared at Seth in silence. Before, he had been so besides himself, so panicked that he had barely taken the time to look at him. Now though, taking in his overall appearance, his dark hair and tanned face, the black tailored suit, the posture…it all immediately reminded him of the brief flashbacks he'd had earlier, and suddenly he was certain that he did actually know him, that those things had really happened.

He squinted, thinking hard, trying to focus on anything else he might remember, anything at all that might help.

They'd been in a car…and a motel room…and a diner together. If he focused he could see himself sitting across from Seth…having a conversation, could see Seth smirking at him as he pushed a glass of alcohol towards him…a hand on his shoulder…

Had they been travelling together? On some sort of road trip maybe? Did that mean they were…what? Friends? He tried to remember anything else but failed, his head too foggy to focus for long.

He felt better nonetheless. At least he had something to go by now and with every new memory that wasn't frightening and every minute that went by without something awful happening he felt a tiny bit safer. Maybe it really was okay. Yes, this place, those men were frightening. But Seth had said he wasn't with them…and that he would keep them away…

_Are you really going to rely on that?_

He shook his head harshly, trying to stop the paranoia creeping up on him again and again. He didn't want to be scared.

His movement didn't go unnoticed this time. Seth opened his eyes just then, looking over at him.

Spencer tensed, unable to help himself and sat up quickly, pulling the covers with him as he sat with his back to the wall.

Seth took in his reaction, his face darkening slightly, jaw clenching for a brief moment. He didn't move or say anything though, just sat there, his expression somewhat incongruous, an odd mix of relief and uncertainty, happiness and worry. As though he was expecting Spencer to freak out again, react to him as badly as before –and as though the thought troubled him.

Spencer was surprised to find that he felt a small stab of guilt in his chest at seeing that, at the realization that he was causing that pained expression with his behavior. It seemed so honest, so authentic; real emotion that made up for the man's unsettling appearance. To think that they might actually be close and for him to have acted like he did…

If only he could be sure. Right then, with their eyes interlocked, both of them motionless, he almost was. Sure enough to take a leap?

Spencer pulled his arms tighter around his knees, battling himself for a moment, eyes never laving Seth's face.

"Hi," he finally said quietly. He figured it was better than, _Sorry, I'm still not sure if you're a friend or an sadistic ax murderer but considering you haven't killed me yet I might give you the benefit of the doubt._

Seth's eyes widened slightly as if in surprise, then softened, the strained expression in them fading gradually.

"Hi," he replied after a moment, still unmoving.

There was silence for a moment, both of them adjusting to the new situation.

Finally Spencer pulled himself together, knowing he couldn't just sit there forever. Now that he'd made a start he had to take another step forward even if he was scared to.

"How long-?"

Seth picked at his pant leg, still eying him somewhat suspiciously. "Another five hours. It's past dusk….Good news is your fever's broken."

Spencer nodded, deciding not to think too much about how he could tell from way over there.

"I do feel better," he said quietly.

"That's good." There was a softness to Seth's face that almost made Spencer think he had just imagined the scene in the kitchen, that that back there had been a completely different man. He didn't know what to make of that...which was more real…

More silence, longer this time, which Spencer didn't know how to fill. It seemed hard to follow up with casual conversation after their last interaction but he definitely didn't want to address that. Seth seemed hesitant to talk or get up as well, and when he did it was hard to read his thoughts from his expression or voice.

"I'm guessing your head's still messed up." It almost sounded like a question. He seemed to want to add something to that, but snapped his mouth shut halfway through.

Spencer nodded, fingers playing with the blanket as he bit his lip. He knew the man was waiting for an explanation for his behavior, any indication for how their next encounters would go.

"I remember you," he eventually admitted, "…my mind is still mostly a blank…but there's…fragments? I remember travelling in the car, the bar, the motel room…just not a whole lot else. Everything is just kind of…fuzzy."

Seth nodded slowly. His lips were still tightly closed, shoulders tensed. There was something in his expression for a moment but it was gone before Spencer could identify it.

"Reckon it'll pass eventually," he then just said, "You've been through a lot. Your brain just shut down."

Spencer instinctively hugged his knees tighter at that, feeling cold suddenly for no specific reason. He still couldn't remember anything - nothing except how he felt at least. That alone was a huge telltale sign though. PTSD occurred after exposure to significantly traumatic events like war, disaster, near death experiences, torture, or rape, resulting in the inability to cope with the trauma resulting in excessive anxiety, flashbacks, nightmares and violent reaction to stressors…

He didn't know how he knew all that. He knew that that was what he was experiencing though. The question was: What had caused it?

"What happened?"

Seth didn't reply for so long that Spencer almost thought he wouldn't at all, his expression unreadable. Then though he frowned, shaking his head. "Maybe you should wait till you remember by yourself…who knows, I don't want you to collapse a third time."

Nothing about the way he said it should have been particularly upsetting, in fact, Spencer realized he was probably right. Still, the words caused a lump to form in his throat, his stomach suddenly churning. His fingers clenched and unclenched in the blanket as he forced himself to take a deep breath.

"I…", he almost couldn't say it, "I need to know." He knew his anxiety and doubts must have been clearly displayed in his eyes as he looked at Seth almost pleadingly, willing him to understand without having to say out loud…

He knew Seth understood when the man's face fell, his expression darkening slightly.

"Right," he said tonelessly, "'Course."

Another stab of gilt over layering his tension.

"I'm sorry, I want to- But I just can't…seem to shake this…" he was apologizing before he knew it, immediately breaking off mid sentence when Seth suddenly got up and walked over to the bed.

He paused at the last step, both hands performing an appeasing gesture when he saw the kid tense. When Spencer didn't protest or move away, he slowly lowered himself onto the edge of the mattress, a good distance away. Spencer stared at him, unable to tear his eyes away from the sadness and hurt that kept flashing over the man's face even as he tried to hide it.

"Don't be. There's so much that-" Seth shook his head, deep crease lines completing his grimace. He seemed conflicted once again as he looked first at the wall next to Spencer's head, then met his eyes with an intense look, "Look I'll tell you…whatever you need to know once you feel better. I just wanna make sure you're up to hearing it. That acceptable?"

He looked up at Spencer waiting for an answer, relaxing visibly when he got a reluctant nod out of him.

He nodded as well, then reached for a glass of water on the nightstand that Spencer hadn't noticed before along with a small white pill that had been lying next to it.

"For the pain," he said, holding both out for him to take. Spencer hesitated, staring at both without moving for a long moment. He swallowed hard. For all this talking and being calm, this seemed to be the real test of faith required of him. He thought about refusing for a second, but then, he _was_ in pain and he _was_ thirsty. And in the end, what would it matter anyway, right? He wasn't going to be running anywhere anytime soon either way. There was no point in drugging him.

He reached out gingerly, trying to will his hand to be still as he moved into Seth's range of reach and took both the pill and the water. Seth didn't move, just silently watched as he drank. Spencer felt the relief of hydration immediately. He hadn't realized _how_ thirsty he was until now.

He finished the glass, then let Seth take it from him, managing not to flinch when their hands touched briefly.

"Thanks," he breathed, leaning back against the wall in relief.

There was the faintest hint of a smile on Seth's face as he nodded, leaning back as well. He gave him a few moments then asked, "Anything else? Something to eat? A shower?"

A shower? Spencer looked down at himself. He felt sweaty and dirty all over, his shirt sticking to his skin and his hair and itchy mess. A shower would be heavenly. But…

_Doesn't matter, remember? Might as well go down while clean…_

He was really starting to worry about the content of his thoughts. Not that they weren't painfully logical.

"Okay," he agreed before the silence grew too long. Seth looked a bit surprised at the quick concession but he didn't say anything about it.

"Hold on a sec."

He got up and walked over to the door, opening it and taking a look at the hallway. It seemed to be empty judging by the way the set of his shoulders relaxed after a moment. Spencer refused to think about the other men that might be waiting, instead focusing on getting out of the bed.

Seth stayed by the door, watching as he carefully tested his legs and finally found that he was alright to walk. The walk over to the door was harder than he'd thought; he had to convince himself to take every single step, his nerves failing him despite all his reasoning.

He let Seth lead the way down the corridor, breath held the entire time. He was grateful Seth was mindful enough not to touch or crowd him, but also that he was putting himself between him and anyone who might cross their path by default. Once at the bathroom door, Seth opened it, looking inside and then nodding to him.

"There's a clean shirt on the counter," he pointed out, "it's probably too big but it'll have to do for now."

Spencer didn't say anything to that. He quickly slipped past the man into the bathroom, barely glancing at the white fabric that had been pointed out to him. He had bigger worries than fit at the moment. Like…

"There's no key," Seth said in that moment like he'd read his mind.

Spencer turned around, shoulders tense. God, this was just getting harder and harder. How was he supposed to feel safe enough to let his guard down if he couldn't even lock the door? He hugged his waist instinctively, shivering.

"Spencer…"

He looked up to find Seth looking at him with that by now familiar troubled expression. He had lifted one hand as if to reach out, opened his mouth -but then shut it again as though he'd changed his mind at the last second. It seemed he had been about to make more promises but stopped, not sure if they would even be welcome.

"I'll wait out here," he said instead after a moment, "make sure no one comes in."

He didn't wait for an answer, closing the door behind him as he left. Maybe it was better that way. Spencer wasn't sure what he would have said.

Once he was alone, he just stood in place for a long moment, merely breathing in and out slowly and deliberately. What to do? What to do? Should he really just trust that Seth would keep him safe and take his shower? Yes, he didn't have a whole lot of options –but that didn't make this any easier.

He looked around the bathroom like that could ease his decision. It was small and windowless, merely a shower, toilet and a mirror over a small sink crammed into the insufficient space. Nothing else…no potential weapons, nowhere to go…. Not much of a choice, was it now?

"Just get it over with already," he whispered to himself. All this fretting was just gnawing at him. He was here already; he might as well make himself feel better.

He walked over to the shower, turning on the water and then slowly and carefully started to take off his clothes. He was still aching all over, but worse than that he felt dirty and sweaty. Suddenly he couldn't wait to get under the water.

He barely waited until it was up to an acceptable temperate before getting into the shower, pulling the curtain closed behind him. The first impact of water on his skin almost felt like a shock, and he gasped, supporting himself on the wall with both hands. That feeling… for a moment something slithered across his mind, a fragment of thought too dark to really see, too quick to grasp…

He blinked, not sure what he had just felt. Another memory?

If so, he didn't feel that choking fear from before so he just let it go, too glad to feel the warm water raining down on him to want to think of anything else. Closing his eyes, he let it run down his aching body, soothing some of the worst aches and washing him clean.

Gradually, he relaxed, tension fading. He stood like that for maybe five minutes before he found it in himself to move and wash himself clean. Every muscle in his body seemed to protest as he lathered himself and by the time he got to washing his hair he actually felt exhausted.

It was when he was putting the shampoo bottle back down that his eyes fell on his fingernails. There was something dark caked under them, something hat he knew instinctively as blood not dirt.

He shuddered, the sight instantly bringing him back to reality.

If only he could remember what had happened. It must have been really bad for his mind to shut it out so completely. He really needed to ask Seth after this. He needed answers. He needed to at least know that whatever threat there had been was gone now.

Seth. He did remember _him_, if only in fragments and he thought he remembered him as being familiar and safe, but like everything else those memories were all mixed up with others and over layered with this latent panic…making it difficult to really see anything straight. The way the man looked at him made it clear that he cared about his well being…but…he wasn't sure but he thought that maybe there was more to that look, something deeper…

He groaned in frustration. If only he knew their exact history...

He closed his eyes, trying to just calm his mind and remember more, something concrete, to focus and not think about anything else anymore.

Closing his eyes, he stood and listened to the water falling around him, cascading down his body. There was something there, he'd felt it before too…

_Water was raining down on him, blurring his sight…long fingers were brushing his hair out of his face, tugging at the strands…another body pressed to his, lips at his neck… '-so beautiful…' He could feel hands roaming over his skin, setting it on fire…insistent kisses stealing his breath…_

_Cold tiles in his back, those hands the only thing holding him upright as his legs felt like jelly…everything was blurry, the bathroom around him fading into the background…all he could see were those black eyes, like coals, burning into him…._

_'Seth,' a gasp falling from his lips as those hands made him squirm with pleasure, heat curling in his stomach…'Seth, please-'_

Spencer's eyes snapped open, cheeks burning and pulse suddenly racing as he realized just what he was remembering. "Oh," that was all he got out before his brain was swamped with more memories, a violent assault that he couldn't shield himself from.

_He was shaking, crying so hard he thought he would choke on his tears…there was red tinting his vision…blood, everywhere, his clothes his skin, their blood… blood even on the hands that had come up to keep him from falling to the ground. _

_'Kid…talk to me! Come on now, open your eyes, look at me-' Seth sounded so worried, so uncharacteristically afraid…Spencer could barely hear him over the echoes of screams in his head….dead, all dead, their empty accusing eyes staring at him…all because of- _

Spencer moaned as his vision swam and his stomach turned, his whole body reacting violently to the sudden onslaught of impressions. Terror, so real, so palpable, was suddenly all he could feel…before he knew it he was stumbling out of the shower, away from the water, the sound, the feeling of wetness against his skin…

Shaking, he caught himself against the sink before he could collapse, fighting to catch his breath, to not completely give in to panic….

Through the tears filling his eyes, he stared at his hands, at the marks around his wrists that were red and chafed…the discolorations on his arms…his torso… His head snapped up and then he was staring at his own reflection. His eyes went wide, breath catching in his throat at what he was seeing.

It was worse, so, so much worse than he'd expected…dark bruises on his face, his neck…split lip and temple…his body, over and over littered with marks, scratches, bruising. some in the shape of fingers, some clearly stemming from a knife…

He stared at himself in horror, a sob escaping him as his legs once again threatened to give in.

Just in that moment there was a sound behind him and the door was pushed open.

* * *

**Sooo some memories returned and Reid is drawing some interesting conclusions...I'm gonna have a field day with this I can already tell. Maybe Seth will too :P**

**Thanks for reading :)**


	8. What happened to me?

**New chapter O.o **

**This is really quick. I was gonna post it tomorrow but I've had such an awful day today that I feel like I need to at least put some proof of advancement out there. **

**Questions: **

**Firstly, since the question came up: Reservoir Dogs is a gangster movie about a diamond heist planned by six strangers that goes wrong. The movie in itself is more of a "guy movie" if you want to call it that, lots of blood and obscenity. I choose to watch it with the perspective that two of the gangsters are a secret couple (which I have proof for). For someone who is in Gender Studies the subtext is a gold mine, just saying. I've actually written a paper on that so don't ask about it unless you really wanna know :)**

**Then about the team. Hotch, Elle and Gideon are dead and no I'm afraid I can't bring them back unless it's in a dream or flashback. I'm sorry if this upsets you. Rossi, Garcia, Morgan, JJ and Emily are peachy though and will appear. **

**Now: As for how much Spencer remembers: Actively, not much right now, at least not about his life before or the people in it. It's kind of like with the shower. It was a specific thing that brought him back to a specific similar moment. I believe that's how it usually works with trauma. **

**There is nothing there to trigger memories of his parents or Morgan for example at the moment because it's not relevant to his situation and his mind is very preoccupied coping with that at the moment. That's not to say that those won't come back (maybe not memories of the team because that would mean remebering their deaths, but maybe his mom, you know?). **

**Right now I would say he's definitely blocked out everything connected to the trauma which is why he doesn't remember anything concrete about the vampires or Richie or even what Seth did, just this feeling of fear. Lucky for Seth because it means Spencer can't tell whether that fear is also of Seth or not.**

**And no, of course he won't end up throwing himself at Seth because of that one memory now, but it certainly changes things. I'm just slow about it. There have been some requests for more angst in the meantime so I'll see what I can do ;)**

* * *

Seth was leaning against the wall by the bathroom door, counting the rows of bullets he still had in his pockets. At the same time he was listening to the sound of the shower behind the wall and the possible sound of steps nearing from somewhere else in the house. Wouldn't put it past Carlos to pick another fight or try something even more stupid…

He had meant what he'd said. No one was going to go past him. With the state Spencer was in right now, he couldn't let anything else happen to make it worse.

He scoffed, shaking his head at his own thoughts. Sometimes he still couldn't believe how far he'd spiraled out of the realm of sanity in just a few days. He barely recognized himself, his every thought of Spencer, every fiber of his being honed in on him entirely.

_Truly obsessed. _

Usually he would have seen that fact as worrisome, especially considering he'd already lost control once with the kid because of that same fixation -and that had been when Spencer had still had the sense to oppose him at least somewhat.

Now it was even worse because Seth only had himself left to debate about right or wrong, to reign himself in.

Surprisingly enough, it hadn't been entirely difficult so far. Yes, there was always this nagging voice in the back of his head that kept telling him that he couldn't let Spencer leave, that he needed him, all of him -but so far he was being spared by the obsessive longing, that dark craving that would have made him worry about Spencer being safe in his company. He wasn't sure why that was, maybe the aftershock of what had happened with the vampires and Richie distracting him from anything that wasn't immediately tied to survival.

Most likely though it was Spencer's state.

Seeing the kid like this, all weak and messed up, intimidated and jumpy was somehow hitting him even worse than he'd thought.

In a way the situation was similar to when Spencer had been his hostage – but it also wasn't. Then, Spencer had been scared and distressed, yes, but there had been a certain ardor and fierceness about him, a hard core probably stemming from years as a profiler, something that wouldn't budge no matter how often his body gave in. It had been one of the first things he'd admired about him, a trait that he was sure had kept the young doctor from cracking during everything that had happened. Now, that part had been buried along with his memories, leaving him completely vulnerable and without any sort of shield or protection to fall back on…

It made everything inside Seth scream _protect_. Just like when Richard had been little and he'd devoted his every waking moment to making sure he was safe –only worse still, because deep down he'd always known that Richard could fend for himself, that in a way he was scarier than anything that might attack him.

Spencer had none of that though. He only had him.

_Yes, he has a wanted murderer who got his friends killed, held him against his will with death threats and then r-_

Seth shook his head harshly.

No. That was in the past. He'd made mistakes, unforgivable ones, but that had been before he'd realized just how much Spencer was to him, how much he needed him to be alive and well. He _would_ be safe with him. This time he would.

Still, even though he was sure of that, it had been hard sitting across from Spencer and pretending to be someone he would see as a friend, not a threat. A small crime, added to his already long list- but yes, small considering he alternative. Somehow he didn't think that being truthful and telling Spencer he was a murderer slash fugitive who had kidnapped him would have done the kid any favors.

In that light, he really hadn't had a choice.

_-Yeah, keep telling yourself that. You're just hoping to get his trust, to get him to stay somehow. You would have told him anything to get him to stop being afraid of you._

_-No. He's sick. I don't want to upset him, is all. That's not saying that once he's better I won't-_

_-Liar! The devil knows what you wouldn't do to keep him with you!_

Again, Seth shook his head harshly, trying to chase away the voices arguing in his head. Before he could succeed on his own, his thoughts were suddenly interrupted when there was a noise from inside the bathroom, followed by a strangled moan, the sound so distressed that he didn't even think before spinning around and pulling the door open.

He half expected to see the kid collapsed on the floor with his leg broken or something on top of everything else. Instead he found Spencer on his feet, standing in front of the sink but looking like he'd literally just stumbled out of the shower, dripping and naked.

For a moment Seth froze, just staring. Before he could be dangerously distracted though, a strangled sound filled the room and his eyes were flitted to the kid's face in alarm. It was only then that he realized that some of the water dripping from his hair into his face were indeed tears and that although wet the kid wasn't trembling from the cold. Spencer's face was a contorted mask of distress and pain and for a moment Seth felt himself catapulted back to the day before when Spencer had broken down crying in another bathroom. He looked just like he had then and for a dreadful second Seth was utterly convinced he had _remembered_ everything.

The thought made him feel cold with fear, of what that would mean, of what he might do…

"What happened to me?"

So distracted by his own thoughts, Seth barely had time to register the question before Spencer swayed, his legs giving in under him after all. He fell to the floor in a heap, whimpering as he pressed one hand to the side of his head, the other to the spot over his heart on his chest, like he was having pain or couldn't breathe.

_Hyperventilating again. God, not another panic attack-_

Seth was by his side kneeling on the ground before he'd remotely thought the action through. He wasn't surprised at all to feel Spencer flinch when he put a steadying arm around his back, or to find his head snapping up stare at him out of glassy, terrified eyes.

He almost backed off again, afraid to make things even worse with the proximity, but then he realized that he was wrong. Spencer looked terribly rattled, clearly having remembered something awful –but it wasn't fear of Seth that was showing in his expression and posture. Once their eyes met and locked, Spencer froze, just staring at him, his expression clearly showing a conflict between uncertainty and a silent plea for help. He seemed to be torn between wanting to seek help and being too afraid to even move.

Seth let out a breath of relief. Whatever had come back, he clearly hadn't been featured as the villain in those memories. Maybe it was the vampires, maybe his friend's deaths… His eyes fell on Spencer's upper body and the array of marks that were undisguised now without any clothing to cover them. Well, or that. That would explain the question and the breakdown, too. Shock over his appearance and its implications. But it wasn't _him_, otherwise he knew Spencer would be fighting him tooth and nail right now trying to get away from him.

No, it was still like it had been half an hour ago. He might be vary of Seth -but right now that was by ninty percent overshadowed by the horrors he clearly had remembered and that were now real to him.

Realizing the dilemma, Seth made the decision for him. He wrapped his arm around the young man's shoulders a little tighter, pulling him in just slightly. "It's okay," he murmured when Spencer tensed, voice and expression soft, "It's over now. You're safe."

The other hand he slowly brought up to gently cup the side of the kid's face, caressing his cheek consolingly. Spencer's breath hitched but he didn't move as Seth brushed his tears away with his thumb. For a long moment, he just kept staring at Seth through wet lashes, the last bits of common sense apparently battling the need to be comforted even if it was by someone who hadn't exactly been 'cleared' yet.

Seth could see the exact moment the former lost in those hazel eyes, just a second before Spencer sank against him, practically collapsing in his arms.

"I…there was so much blood…someone…died…I, I was so scared, it hurt so much, they-"

He sobbed piteously, more tremors wracking his slight frame. Seth brought him fully into his arms without hesitance, tucking his head under his chin and carefully stroking his back in a calming motion. "Shh, it's alright…it's over, Spencer. They're gone, they can't hurt you anymore. You're safe, you're fine."

He didn't know how often he repeated those words or how long it took, but eventually Spencer calmed down enough to catch his breath. After that, it took at least another five minutes before his tears started to subside and he stopped murmuring about blood and darkness and screams.

Then, slowly, he seemed to become aware of their position, stiffening slightly. Seth couldn't help but notice though that he didn't try to move out of his arms just yet, still leaning on him for support. Apparently he'd earned some trust at some point. Granted, it was obvious that the kid would latch on to any sort of support in his condition, but still... The thought made his heart swell despite the unpleasant circumstances. Carefully, he threaded his fingers through tangled brown hair, soothing wordlessly.

"What- happened?" Spencer's voice against his neck was so desperate and small that it tugged at Seth's heart, but also determined.

He nodded, letting the motion be felt through their proximity. For a brief moment he closed his eyes, permitting himself to hold Spencer just a little while longer, stalling. Who knew how long this phase woudl alst and when/if he would get to hold him like this again...

"Okay," he eventually murmured, slightly off-pace. His hands moved over the kid's bare shoulders as he tried to find his focus again. He could feel him still shaking, but realized that by now there were goose bumps all over his skin, cold also coming into play now.

Seth reached up to pull the clean shirt from the counter and leaned back slightly to drape it over Spencer's shoulders. "Okay, I'll tell you."

_xxx_

_"What happened to you?"_

_The same question over and over again. He can't bear to hear it anymore, keeps hoping they'll grow weary of being presented with the same silence every time they ask. 'Insanity', he once read, 'is defined as performing the same action over and over, expecting different results.' _

_He almost wants to laugh at that, not only because the reciting of trivia is so much like him, the way he was before...back when everything was easy and he thought he actually did know everything. Back before he woke up to an absolute nothing, his mind and his heart a blank, forced to piece his identity back together based on the vague suggestions of a man possessed._

_ Seth's intense gaze, his touch, calloused fingers touching, caressing, holding him...it all reshaped him, turned him into what he is today. A man torn between the past and the present, between being a man who spouts of quotes about insanity and a man who understands what it is like to feel insane._

_"What happened after the bar? You have to tell us, Spencer. What did he do to you?"_

_Desperation in that old familiar voice._

_He stares at the wall, his mouth too dry to answer, his eyes too wet to look up. _

_What happened to him? _

_Seth happened. Insanity followed. _

_He can see it clearly now as he closes his eyes, blinking tears away and opens them, expecting to find Seth standing in front of him, just there gazing at him out of those eyes that can be so hard and cold but that are always so soft for him, only for him... He can't remember how often he's repeated that same action since he's been cooped up here in this windowless room, deaf to the questions raining down on him._

_'Repeating the same action over and over expecting different results.'_

_He doesn't know why he keeps expecting to see him instead of them. _

_Seth is gone. _

_Even saying it in his head doesn't make it feel real. He has spent so much time with Seth always being there, always with him, from fingers in his hair waking him in the morning to a warm body pressed against his at night. He just had to blink and Seth was there, like his shadow, like the moon to his earth. Unconditional and constant, whether he wanted him there or not._

_But now he's gone and Spencer is alone. He knows he should feel relieved. He doesn't. He just feels cold and empty. _

_How did it come to this?_

_He doesn't know what to tell them._

* * *

"We were...travelling through Mexico."

Seth wasn't looking at him as he spoke, fixating the opposite wall instead.

Spencer, who was lying on his side in the bed, back to the wall and wrapped securely in his blanket, looked up at the man sitting next to him, leaning against the bed frame with one leg stretched out alongside Spencer's and the other drawn to his chest.

The proximity was by far not as unnerving to him as it had been before, be it because his breakdown in the bathroom had emotionally exhausted him to the point of resignation or because it had showed him that Seth wasn't going to do anything to him. Either way he hadn't protested when Seth had helped him off the bathroom floor to help him get dressed and make it back to the room and into bed, not when he hadn't gotten back up from it. At this point, insane or not, he was actually beginning to feel safer with the man sitting there between him and the door like an additional wall to keep out everything that scared him. It might have been naïve and reckless but at this point he felt like he was falling apart, eaten alive by fear. He needed something, someone to hold onto.

Having no memory except for the knowledge that something awful had happened to him was still immensely unsettling, and having remembered enough by now to be relatively sure that Seth was someone who would want to keep him from further harm, who cared about him, was an immense relief.

Even with that relief though, he still needed to know what had happened desperately. He knew he would never be able to truly rest otherwise. Seth seemed finally convinced too because even though he could obviously see Spencer's exhaustion he hadn't refused to tell him again. Granted, he didn't look happy, but he was talking.

"Travelling by car. You and I, with my brother and a girl, Hazel." Seth paused at that, looking at him in search for a reaction. When he didn't get one he continued, pauses, "We ended up in this bar one night, the four of us and some of your friends. It was...unexpected. We were attacked by the patrons. They locked us in, tortured and tried to kill us. We fought with all we had but it still ended bloody."

Spencer nodded slowly, focused on the piece of blanket he was picking at. Even hearing this didn't make him remember anything more clearly even if it fit with the memory fragments he had. He didn't remember a girl, or any…friends…he remembered scenes of violence, screams, blood, and dead eyes.

He shuddered at the thought that those memories were about someone who had been close to him.

"Where are they now?"

"They're dead. All of 'em," there was a bitterness in Seth's voice that made it clear that he was mourning for at least one of those people. His brother…Spencer felt his heart sink at the thought. How awful. He's lost his family and instead of taking the time to grieve he's stuck looking out for me…

Seth kept on talking, oblivious to his thoughts. "I think that's part of why you can't remember. It was just too much. You saw them die...your friends, everyone. In the end we beat those monsters and I made sure they wouldn't be able to follow us…but you almost died, too."

He did look at Spencer at that, the pained, haunted expression in his gaze more intense now and Spencer couldn't tell anymore if it was for that brother or for him.

Seth cared about him a lot, now that he was taking the time to really look for it he could see that. There was so much emotion in his eyes when he looked at him…that and there were the memories he had of course, memories that had faded into the background with everything else going on until now but that were still there and that led him to believe-

He felt heat rising in his cheeks with the most inappropriate time he could think of; quickly he pushed those thoughts away and cast his eyes down at the blanket again.

"I don't remember that," he murmured.

"Maybe that's better," Seth mused, his expression cloudy, "I sure as hell wish I didn't have to."

Spencer shifted uncomfortably next to him, suddenly feeling like he should say something. "I'm sorry about your brother."

Something like a smirk curved Seth's lips at that, partly amused but mostly bitter. "I know. I am too but I had to make a choice."

"What?" Spencer asked, confused when he could not follow.

Seth's smile faded, his gaze becoming serious as he met Spencer's eye. "It was you or him. I couldn't let you die."

He looked dead serious. Spencer stared up at him, speechless as the impact of those words slowly sank into his muddled brain. Even then, he was sure he must have heard wrong. Seth wasn't saying what he thought he was…was he? That he'd chosen him over his brother?

Spencer sat up abruptly, ignoring his protesting joints as he gaped at the man next to him, trying to find the words to form a coherent question-

He didn't get to.

Before he got a single word out, the room's door was suddenly slammed open and both of them jumped at the noise, completely unprepared. Their heads snapped around and Spencer froze when he saw the men from the kitchen stepping into the room, their expressions sinister.

Seth was up in an instant, his hand reaching for the revolver on the nightstand.

"I wouldn't do that, Seth," the man named Carlos stepped forward, his own gun in hand and aimed at them, "I have no beef with you, my friend, but the boy needs to go."

There was no doubt as to what exactly he meant with _go_.

* * *

**Drama :D**

**Are you hating the time jumps yet? I'm trying to at least hint at an actual plot with them.**

**So before I go on to try my luck with an "action scene", what did you think about Spencer's changed attitude? Authentic or not?**

**Review please? I could do with something to make me smile right now.**


	9. Time to Go

**Thanks for all of your lovely reviews. Always a bright spot in my day :-***

**This is rather short but at least there's some action and not just talking. Some violence ahead, just so you're warned.**

* * *

_The room's door was suddenly slammed open and both of them jumped at the noise, completely unprepared. Their heads snapped around and Spencer froze when he saw the men from the kitchen stepping into the room, their expressions sinister._

_Seth was up in an instant, his hand reaching for the revolver on the nightstand._

_"I wouldn't do that, Seth," the man named Carlos stepped forward, his own gun in hand and aimed at them, "I have no beef with you, my friend, but the boy needs to go."_

_There was no doubt as to what exactly he meant with __go__._

Spencer felt the by now familiar sensation of cold fear spreading through his veins again as he stared at the armed men across the room. Every alarm bell is head was going off at the scene before him –and this time he was sure he wasn't misinterpreting anything.

His heart started racing when the man named Carlos stepped closer, followed by the others, his expression menacing as he released the safety catch on his gun. _He has to go_. There really was no misinterpreting that. They were going to kill him, for real this time.

All remnants of calm gone in an instant, Spencer scrambled to get out of bed and to his feet, flight instinct returning with a vengeance.

Before he could even figure out where he wanted to run to though, Seth quickly lifted one arm, keeping him back in the same moment that he took a step forward.

Spencer stopped in his tracks, his eyes flickering over the man's posture, his slightly crouched stance and tensed shoulders to realize that it looked like he was preparing for blocking an attack -as well as attacking. _What-?_

Seth didn't look back at him to explain.

"Are you fucking serious, Carlos?" he asked darkly, the aggression in his voice thinly veiled.

He sounded truly scary even without a look at his expression and it was clear that the others weren't unaffected by that.

Spencer swallowed hard, somehow frozen in his spot between Seth and the bed.

_He's protecting me…he really is protecting me… _

Maybe he shouldn't have been so stunned by that realization, after all Seth had promised just that over and over…but only actually seeing it made him believe it for the first time. _Don't move, _his brain quickly supplied_, You wouldn't make it alone. He said he wouldn't let them touch you…he won't…_

There wasn't much room for doubts in the situation. At any other time he might have doubted because of the absolutely lethal tone in Seth's voice, or the fact that there must be a reason apart from really dirty looks that he was able to scare these men like this…but right then with Seth as the only thing between him and death, those priorities shifted.

He did the smartest thing he could. He stayed where he was despite every fiber of his body screaming at him to flee over the rushing of blood in his ears, unmoving, anxiously staring at the two men facing off in front of him.

Carlos was sufficiently distracted anyway right then. He looked worried at seeing Seth's determination, but that didn't mean he was backing off. On the contrary, he stepped forward, a deep frown marring his dark face as he addressed Seth.

"You know I respect you, man, but I told you…I can't have him here. It's too much of a risk for all of us."

Seth didn't move out of his stance by an inch, his voice low and deadly, "You take one more step towards him and I swear you'll regret it."

The vigor in his voice stunned both Carlos and Spencer. It was obvious he really, _really_ meant that.

For a sheer endless moment nobody moved or blinked even. Carlos didn't move closer and Spencer could see the hand with the gun shaking slightly –but he also saw the thick, stubby finger eventually curling around the trigger as the gun's muzzle moved to aim at his chest. He drew in a sharp breath, every muscle in his body locking in terror as he realized the man was going to shoot despite Seth's warning.

Everything happened very fast then.

The sound of a gunshot ripped through the tense silence, one that Spencer knew was aimed at him and that he wouldn't be able to evade. In the same second, before he had even begun to consider moving or closing his eyes or praying, Seth suddenly whirled around, grabbed him and shoved him out of the way.

Spencer stumbled back, only after a long second realizing that the pain of metal ripping through his chest wasn't there, that he wasn't hit.

By then Seth had already whirled back around, just in time to keep Carlos from firing a second shot by grabbing the man's arm and twisting it harshly. Carlos yelled loudly, fighting back and then they were in a full on fight, both of them pushing and shoving, Carlos trying to shake Seth off and Seth trying to get to the gun.

Spencer stared at them in shock, finding himself unable to move as he watched Carlos landing a punch in Seth's gut while Seth's fist smacked into Carlos' jaw with unrestrained force. The sense of déjà vu was like a punch to _his _stomach, so powerful it took his breath away. He had seen this before, Seth kneeling on the ground, fighting someone like this…

There had been blood, too…and there was now, on the floor where the two men were fighting, on their skin, and he couldn't tell where it was coming from, or how much it was…

He whimpered when memories threatened to overwhelm him again, knowing that this wasn't the moment to break down, not with those other men still around…

"Fuck it! I'll do it then!" He had barely finished that thought when one of the men suddenly moved and made a grab for him, yanking at his arm.

Spencer shrank back with a yelp, trying to yank his arm away but the man wouldn't let go no matter how hard he tried. The man held him tightly while reaching for something in his pocket and producing a knife.

"No!" Spencer cried, panicked.

It fell on deaf ears. Before he knew it he was spun around and shoved onto the bed face first. The next second the man was on him, a knee digging into his back, a hard hand roughly twisting one of his arms onto his back.

Spencer yelled out in pain and fear, thrashing wildly as he tried to get away. The man ignored him, grabbing him by his hair and forcing his head up. Spencer froze when he felt the cold metal of a knife against his throat. _Cold metal, biting pain…he was going to die…_

"No!" Seth roared close by. There was another shot, and then a scream and the next second the weight on top of him was gone, the bulky criminal dragging him to his feet and using him like a shield.

Tears shot into Spencer's eyes from the pain of his hair being pulled but even through a blurred vision he could see Carlos on the ground, clutching his bleeding arm, and Seth already getting up from the ground, gun in hand. Once standing, he didn't spare another glance for Carlos, his eyes immediately focusing on Spencer and the man holding him.

"Agh-" Spencer winced when the man pulled at his hair harder, yanking him back.

"Shut up!" the man snapped, then extended his arm, pointing the knife at Seth threateningly to keep him away, "You! Back off!" Spencer could feel him take a breath to say something else, a threat probably -but Seth didn't wait to hear it.

In a flash he was right in front of them, grabbing the man's hand with the knife and twisting it harshly. There was a sickening crack and the man screamed, dropping the knife and releasing his grip on Spencer to clutch his broken appendage.

The second Spencer was free Seth grabbed him and pulled him behind himself, blocking him from everybody else. Only then did he focus on the rest of the men, aiming the gun he'd won at them threateningly. There were two men left, blocking the way to the door. Both of them were looking between Carlos who was bleeding on the floor, their buddy with the broken hand and Seth with alarmed expressions. Clearly they weren't as confident anymore, or as determined to likely get seriously hurt just to get to Spencer.

"Out of the way," Seth growled, finger on the trigger, "move or I'll do it for you."

It was clear that neither man doubted he meant that, that he would shoot. After a moment of thick silence they both gave in, apparently deciding it wasn't worth it and moved aside. Seth's focus didn't waver as he grabbed Spencer's wrist blindly, pulling. Spencer stumbled after him as they moved towards the door and outside.

Seth only glanced at his face briefly as he looked back over his shoulder before pulling him along faster as he hurried down the corridor. He didn't say anything and Spencer _couldn't have_ said anything had he wanted to right then, the shock of what had just happened still sitting too deep. He was just glad that his legs were obeying him and letting Seth get him out of there, away from…

Spencer cast an anxious look back over his shoulder. They weren't being followed yet. No one came after them, not even when they ran out the back door.

There were three cars parked next to the house and Seth pulled him over to one of them, yanking open the door on the passenger's side.

"Get in," he demanded urgently, practically pushing Spencer into the seat before running around to the driver's side, getting in and then racing them off the premise and onto the road.

Then they were on the highway, long before Spencer's brain and body even started to reboot and recover from the shock like state they'd gone into when he'd almost died. Once they did he realized he was shaking, sweating and shivering at the same time, feeling like he was about to black out.

It all just kept flashing in front of his mental eye, the men, the guns…the knife at his throat and the realizing that that man was really about to slit his throat…Seth raising hell, shooting Carlos and breaking that guy's hand like it was nothing…all that violence and blood and screaming…all of it filling his head, so much of it by now that it felt like there was nothing else beside it…and in the midst of all Seth…with liquid eyes but a deadly voice and steady hand on the trigger of a gun-

"-re you okay?" He jumped, startled out of having spaced off by a hand on his arm. His head snapped around to find that Seth was staring at him urgently, "Spencer, talk to me, are you okay?"

Spencer just stared at him, his mouth opening and closing but no words coming out. All he could see was red, all he could do was to keep from screaming.

Was he okay?

He really didn't think so.

* * *

**Wow, poor Specney can't catch a break. **

**Okay, so I think pretty soon I've got to turn this arond at least a little and get them to a more relaxed and peaceful place physically as well as metaphorically. This is supposed to be a love story after all. Well, my warped version of one at least. But seriously, I do love me some melodrama and tragic irony and stuff but you know it has to be good first so that there's something to mess with later on...**

**So, onto the "good" soon. Feel free to offer suggestions as to what you'd like to see. Seth really isn't a sunny character so I think it might be difficult to write any scenes that make Spencer "like him better" or any sugary, sappy stuff...but I will still try to find a middle ground. Ideas my way please :)**


	10. Déjà Vu

"Kid! Are you okay?"

The urgency in Seth's voice snapped Spencer out of his stupor.

He jumped, then, realizing his unraveled state, forced himself to still and take deep breaths to calm himself down. It worked only moderately well –probably also because the stress that was causing him to panic wasn't gone yet.

Seth was still driving at a mad pace with one hand on the steering wheel, blood on his fingers and a gun by his side, everything about his expression and posture screaming tension. He looked like he was fully prepared for another round of fighting and shooting should anyone come after them. Wild, dangerous, unhinged.

Spencer gulped, instinctively pressing his back into his seat and clutching at its sides. He was rattled enough; Seth's state and his mad driving weren't helping matters.

It took him a moment to even register the question, then even longer to form an answer in his head.

Okay? No. Everything that had just happened considered, he was extremely certain that he wasn't okay.

He had been tethering on the edge ever since waking up - but that last dreadful experience certainly hadn't helped matters. By now he was just a nervous wreck, torn between wanting to cry and scream and curl in on himself and just shut himself off from all of this horror -the immediate one as well as the one he couldn't fully grasp still- that he couldn't run from.

But who wouldn't be? Even without the physical symptoms, the creeping fear and the vicious flashback, anyone would react badly to almost being…killed.

He shuddered as he reached up to touch the place where the knife had been pressed to his throat, finding a small smear of blood there. The sensation caused the panic he'd felt then to spike back up, flooding his veins-

_No. No, no!_ With an enormous amount of effort it seemed he kept himself from hyperventilating. _No!_ It was alright, the danger was gone. They were gone now, they had left the men behind…Seth had saved him…he just needed to catch his breath-

"Spencer!"

Seth was still waiting for any sort of answer, sounding more upset by the second by his apathy.

"Y-yes," he nodded shakily, well knowing that the man was asking if he was physically alright, "Yes, I'm okay."

He jumped, his heart jolting when Seth suddenly lashed out, slamming his fist onto the steering wheel. "Fucking –fuck!"

His head snapping around in shock he stared at the man next to him, immediately feeling even more distressed. He sunk further into the seat, his breathing flattening out.

Seth had saved him back there, and he was getting them away from danger at the moment -but with the way he was acting right now, so aggressive and unpredictable, and remembering what had happened back there with Carlos…

Spencer shivered as he was reminded of more details of what had happened. How utterly frightening Seth had looked, how easily he'd matched the violence they'd been presented with – the memory of that alone was enough to turn his stomach and make him freeze up in an almost automatic response. It made the little voice in his head that was telling him that there was something off about his rescuer/possible friend grow louder and louder.

After the attack, he'd been so shocked that he hadn't done anything consciously, just allowing Seth to take over and get them out of the situation. It had been survival instinct he supposed, latching on to any source of protection…and Seth had so readily stepped in front of him to protect him.

That protectiveness, along with the worry for him he could hear in the man's voice still now was the only thing keeping him remotely grounded at the moment. The only thing that allowed him to not completely freak out at the thought of the violence, the darkness, the outbursts exhibited by a man who was currently racing him down an abandoned highway in the middle of nowhere…

He pressed his eyes shut, fingers clenching in the material of the seat as he tried to force himself to stay calm.

_Breathe, just breathe…it doesn't matter. You're transferring your anxiety because he's acting like this…it doesn't mean it's justified… He's just upset. He kept you from getting hurt, he's not going to hurt you…what else matters right now?_

He wasn't even halfway through that improvised mantra when next to him Seth swore loudly, again hitting the steering wheel viciously in open anger. This time he hissed, cringing like he was in pain.

Spencer, whose head had snapped around in fear, felt his eyes widen in alarm when he looked at the man's arm and suddenly realized that there was wetness soaking through Seth's sleeve, a sleeve which was marred by a hole in it.

Every chaotic thought whirling around his brain just stopped then, completely pushed back by the slowly creeping realization that Seth was _bleeding_.

No, not just bleeding. Bleeding from a gunshot wound.

Within milliseconds the fight scene at the safe house flashed in front of Spencer's mental eye again…Seth pushing him out of the way…one gunshot…then later, _another_…Carlos hit only once-

_Oh, God. _

He stared at Seth, the last bit of color washing out of his face.

Noticing his reaction, Seth stilled, refraining from hitting the wheel again. "Sorry," he frowned, "I'm just so fucking pissed at those bastards-"

Preoccupied as he was staring at the blood, it took Spencer a moment to even understand what Seth was apologizing for - by then his anxiety over the way Seth was acting had been pushed into the background by the sudden, mindboggling turn the situation had taken.

"Your arm," he rasped tonelessly, "You-"

Spencer broke off, unable to make his lips form any more words.

Seth had been shot.

_Shot._

Shot _for him_ as he'd pushed him out of the way. And just like that he couldn't breathe again.

Seth seemed surprised by his words but also oddly relieved that Spencer's focus wasn't on his manic behavior anymore.

He didn't even glance at the wound. "It's nothing," he said quickly, shrugging the matter off, "just grazed."

Spencer shook his head in dismay. He could see that it wasn't _nothing._ Seth was losing blood continually. He was shot for God's sake….oh, goodness, he was going to faint while driving, they were about to have an accident-

"Stop the car."

Seth didn't even slow down in the slightest, instead glancing into the rearview mirror. Anxiously, Spencer followed his gaze, finding that they were alone on the dusty road. No one was following them. Still, they weren't getting slower and Seth wasn't listening to him and what was he supposed to do, the guy was bleeding and-

"_Seth_," Spencer tried again, a distinct edge of panic to his voice now, "We're gonna crash. Please, stop!"

He must have sounded desperate enough then because Seth ground his teeth, checking the street behind them again. It took another minute or so but then he finally slowed down to an acceptable speed.

"Hold on. I can't stop right now," he said, "they might be following us."

Realizing there was nothing he could further do and that he was out of control didn't exactly help Spencer at that point. With a distressed whimper he pressed his eyes shut tightly, drawing in more irregular, shaky breaths as he clung to the seat, just trying to block it all out. _-crash, gonna crash and-_

"Spencer." A heavy hand wrapped around his shoulder, squeezing insistently. _Another thing distracting him from driving…isn't that the injured arm…oh god… _"Spencer!"

"Yes," he got out when Seth practically yelled at him, forcing himself to open his eyes.

Seth was looking over at him intently. "You need to calm down," his fingers flexed on his shoulder as he took a deep breath and continued on in a softer voice, "We're not gonna crash. I'm _fine_. I've had much worse, believe me."

He sounded so convinced and stern, and thankfully not faint that it actually helped calm Spencer down slightly. Slightly. Considering how upset he'd started out it merely meant he didn't feel like screaming frantically anymore…everything else remained.

Seth watched him out of the corner of his eyes for a moment as he stilled, but he clearly knew his words hadn't done much good because he kept on talking,

"You're okay, kid. I know the words mean shit to you right now with everything going on, I know you're scared…and why wouldn't you be with all that fucked up-… _but _I can't do anything about that right now, so I…I just need you to believe it. Believe that I'm doing my best to fix it."

Fix it. Ha. That might have sounded more reassuring if he hadn't just been witness to Seth's way of fixing things...

Spencer gulped, shivering as his eyes involuntarily fell on the hand on his shoulder.

"You broke his hand...like it was nothing..." the words got stuck in his throat. He was trying and he knew this wasn't the time but he just couldn't get that picture out of his head. The fingers around his shoulder flexed and briefly Spencer was extremely aware of them touching his collar bone before they suddenly vanished.

"He was going to slit your throat, Spencer."

Spencer gulped, shivering at the memory. For a long moment he said nothing but finally he nodded, biting his lip to keep it from trembling. Then he forced himself to lean back in his seat and stop freaking out at least outwardly. _He's right. That man deserved it...but Seth won't do that to you even if he can. You're okay. You're okay._

Still there wasn't a fiber in his body that even remotely agreed with that statement. But it was clear that Seth wasn't going to stop so there probably was no point in arguing and endangering them more by distracting the man further from the road.

He tried to just accept that he would have to wait this out, tried to convince himself that it was okay…yes, he'd almost been killed but no one seemed to be following them so they were safe from those men…yes, Seth was shot and bleeding but he looked like he was handling it pretty well…and yes, so Seth was all kinds of scary, leaving Spencer with no choice but to come with him at this point…_but then_, the man had protected him…he'd caught a freaking bullet for him!

How much more proof could he possibly need that he wanted him to be safe and unharmed? Whatever their past, or the definites of their relationship…Seth had saved his life risking his own. How ungrateful would he be to even doubt his intentions now? He was taking them to safety, what else did he need to know?

With that in mind it was a little easier to think the _You're okay_ bit and possibly believe it at least partially. Maybe he wasn't okay per se, but Seth wanted him to be…and considering Seth was in control right now that seemed like the deciding factor.

That way ruling out two reasons for his fear he was left with just one…Seth losing too much blood to get them anywhere.

But that was something he could do something about, wasn't it?

Some logical part of his brain logged back on by then, pushing back the mindless panic in favor of actual productive thought. Yes…if Seth wouldn't stop to check on the wound he would have to do something…he needed to pull himself together already.

It took a few more deliberate breaths to strengthen his resolve but it worked at least somewhat. With unsteady hands Spencer reached out across the space between them and touched Seth's arm carefully. Seth glanced down at him in surprise at his changed behavior. His expression was slightly strained but he didn't pull away or do anything rash, giving Spencer the confidence to continue.

The fabric around the wound was ripped and it was hard trying to get a clearer look at the damage, especially without being distracted by the nauseating sight of blood. Spencer did his best not to notice that. He needed to see how bad the wound was, if the blood flow needed to be checked immediately…Seth could go into shock depending on how bad it was…

How he knew that he had no idea, or why it would feel familiar to think about it…he just did.

"I can't see the bullet….it looks like it really just grazed, but it's deep. You'll need stitches."

"Told ya," Seth sighed, "It's fine. Really. I'll fix it once we stop."

"Where-?"

"I dunno. Next motel along the road," Seth nodded straight ahead at the road where there was nothing but dust and sand as far as the eye could reach, "shouldn't be more than an hour."

Too long.

Knowing he needed to do something, Spencer turned around to look into the back of the car. There were two bags lying on the back seat. He leaned over and reached for one, going through it hastily, fully focused on the task at hand. The more he did, the less weak and shaky he felt which was a good thing. He sorted through the contents of the bag. There were files in there, some other stuff and another gun. He hastily pulled his hand back and grabbed the next bag. In it was a change of clothes it seemed, a dark suit jacket and two ties. He grabbed one of them and turned back around, sliding into his seat.

Then he leaned over again and with some effort wrapped the tie around Seth's biceps above the wound. With a sharp tug he pulled it tight. Seth hissed but didn't move otherwise, letting him tie a tight knot. When he was done Spencer fell back into his seat with an exhausted exhale, hands trembling as he wiped fresh blood off on his jeans.

"Thanks."

He blinked at the odd tone in Seth's voice, and when he looked up he was met with a gaze that was thankfully devoid of agression now, just some tension but also that same softness he had shown before back at the safehouse. Silly as it might be, the sight instantly calmed Spencer significantly. He knew it should probably worry him even more that Seth personality seemed to shift so quickly, but in fact, it actually made him feel better sort of. The more often it happened, the easier it was to differentiate, to tell himself that while Seth had been so scary and violent just minutes ago he was different with him, that he wouldn't-

It wasn't logical. Still.

Whatever there was between them, whatever kind of bond there had been that had been severed and disrupted by his amnesia and that Seth was trying to fix – the details didn't matter quite as much anymore as the general feeling that there was _something._ Despite all remaining doubts it calmed him, made him feel better, safer.

Safe enough to sit back and let Seth take him towards the unknown. Whoever Seth was, he had kept _him_ safe so far. He could only hope that it was a trend.

xxx

It took about two hours before they came by a motel on the side of the road. By then it was pitch black outside, a fact that was putting Seth as well as Spencer –even though he wasn't quite sure why- on edge even more.

They had ridden in silence, both of them tired and tense, literally expecting Carlos and his gang to show up behind them after all.

No one had followed them so far though and by some sort of miracle Seth's circulation hadn't rebelled and caused him to black out from pain or shock all throughout. His knuckles were white and his breathing strained, but he had pulled through liked he'd said.

"This should do," Seth said as he glanced up at the front of the motel through the windshield.

Spencer followed his gaze, the feeling of unease that had been covered by sheer exhaustion after his adrenaline shock earlier returning.

Was he actually booking into a motel not even knowing which city it was in…or near…with a man he knew virtually nothing about except that he was prone to violence and had a couple of guns he knew how to use with him?

No matter how often he said it in his mind, it didn't start sounding smart…the opposite rather.

Noticing his hesitation, Seth looked over at him, a frown settling on his face. "You alright?" he asked.

Spencer looked at the dark-haired man next to him for a long moment. He could see Seth was sweating (_from a bullet with your name on it_) and there were dark circles under his eyes (_he probably didn't sleep while he was making sure no one would come into the room while you were too weak_).

"Yeah," he breathed before he could change his mind.

He might still be uncertain about this, but he would be safer with Seth than alone right now, he knew that. Yes, there was still a lot he needed to have explained but it was too late and they were too tired for that whole conversation to take place _now_ and quickly enough for Spencer to go anywhere else tonight. With the state Seth was in he would hardly be up for an extended game of ask and tell. Plus, Spencer didn't have a car, or money, or any idea where he was or how far he was from his home.

No, for now this motel seemed like the best option till everything was cleared up. _Come on now. You do remember travelling with him…more than that…you wouldn't have been doing that if you hadn't been sure it was safe._

Right.

Plus, he could hardly leave Seth alone now with a wound that was technically his fault.

In the end, it wasn't much of a decision. He unbuckled his belt and got out of the car.

Seth did as well a short moment later. He didn't comment on that tense little moment as they walked over to the motel swiftly.

The man behind the registration desk looked at them funny –probably not surprisingly, by now they were both looking pretty battered –but he handed them a room key wordlessly.

The first thing Seth did after opening their door was to check the closet as well as the bathroom, hand on his gun, before locking the door and shutting the windows tightly, pulling the curtains shut. Then he sank down on the bed with a groan, falling back against the headboard.

Spencer, who had hesitated by the door, feeling that odd sense of déjà vu again for a brief moment, couldn't help but feel a mix of guilt and worry as he looked over at him, knowing that he had caused his bad state.

Meanwhile, Seth was tugging the tie off his bicep and shrugging off his suit jacket, hissing when he moved his arm out of it. Spencer winced at the sight of his arm. It was completely red with dried blood.

He watched as Seth leaned over to open the nightstand and rummaged around it till he pulled out one of those complimentary sewing kits. He threw that on the bed then opened the door beneath the drawer which turned out to be a little minibar. From there he took out what looked like a bottle of liquor, popping it open one handedly and taking a long swallow.

Spencer's eyes widened when after that he poured some of the liquid over his arm and into the wound. He pulled a face at the sting, then reached for the sewing kit.

Spencer's stomach turned when he realized what he was doing. He must have made a sound because Seth looked up at him, momentarily distracted from his plans. "You should probably sit, kid. You look like you're about to drop outta your shoes."

Numbly, Spencer followed the man's advice, walking over to the bed and sinking down on the mattress, his eyes never leaving Seth's arm.

"What are you-?" he asked, his voice wavering.

Seth smirked dryly, one handedly fumbling with the needle. "You said it yourself, this needs to be stitched up."

Spencer gulped, fighting down nausea at the images rising up in his mind. He knew Seth was right but still…to do this like this…without anesthesia and with his left hand nonetheless…

"Let me," he said, once again speaking without thinking.

Seth raised an eyebrow at him, again looking just as surprised by his behavior as he had in the car. Spencer didn't say anything, pressing his lips together as he reached for the needle and pulled the thread through it.

"Ya sure?" Seth asked as he picked up the liquor bottle and handed it to him for disinfection.

Spencer took it and on impulse took a large gulp of the amber liquid. He coughed as it burned in his throat watering his eyes, then poured some into his palms as rubbed them together, ignoring the tremble in his fingers.

Seth chuckled faintly at his behavior, "Taking the edge off?"

Spencer blinked when the words tickled a memory at the back of his mind, making him realize that this too felt familiar. He smiled faintly. Funny how so many little things were starting to come back while he still couldn't remember anything remotely important.

He looked up at Seth, the sight of him with the background of a motel room oh so familiar. Well… maybe the little things were important, too…at least they were making him feel safer, more secure. The little things and the fact that Seth wasn't mindlessly hitting inanimate objects anymore of course.

Remembering the task at hand, he shook his head, trying his best to focus despite his exhaustion.

"This is going to hurt," he warned as he scooted a little closer so he could get to Seth's arm, "and I have no idea what I'm doing…"

Again Seth just chuckled dryly, "Do your worst, doc."

xxx

It was harder to do than he would have thought, if only because the thought of sewing through living human skin while the person could feel it all was disturbing to him. He did manage though, grateful that Seth barely moved or complained during the procedure. As carefully as possible he sewed the wound closed.

A silence had fallen over the room at some point which was almost comfortable. At least to Spencer it seemed that way; for the first time in what seemed like forever did his pulse reach a normal level again, his adrenaline level finally sinking after hours and hours of incessant stress setting him on edge.

Seth had thankfully remained calm and focusing on the task at hand helped Spencer take his mind off other things at least partially…although...there was one question burning on his mind that he couldn't help but ask.

"Why did you do it?" he eventually asked so quietly that at first he thought Seth hadn't understood. There was so much that didn't make sense, leaving him with no ground to stand on…but that one question…it felt like if he could get the answer to that one it would clear up so much more in the process.

The answer came fairly quickly, "Get shot you mean? Well, it wasn't exactly my plan…"

Seth's crooked smirk faded quickly when Spencer looked straight at him, his real questions plainly reflected in his uncertain expression. It was replaced by the same incongruous expression that Spencer had seen peeking through a mask of calm and control back at the safe house…something between sadness, pain and just sheer…emotion…sheer enough to make him shiver from the sudden intensity.

He wasn't nearly prepared when Seth unexpectedly leaned forward slightly and lifted his good hand, reaching out to tuck a long strand of hair behind Spencer's ear, his fingers ghosting over his cheek like an afterthought.

Spencer's breath caught, his first instinct being to pull away...but the touch was just so...gentle and careful, bearing absolutely no resemblance to the hard hand he'd seen breaking bones like twigs just hours ago... _Like it's two different people..._

He didn't move.

Seth's eyes looked almost black as he gazed at him, his inner turmoil showing in them once more, "You almost died on me once…and I just can't- I _won't_ lose you. I don't ever want to feel that way again."

Spencer stared into their depths, unable to even blink as his heart skipped a beat, miraculously not from fear this time. The way Seth was looking at him...so...intensely. He could feel a lump building in his throat, the fingers on his cheek suddenly making his skin tingle...

"Seth…" his mouth felt dry as he fought to react, overcharged with his own reaction, torn between uncertainty and faint memories of feelings unexpectedly welling up inside him…

He drew in another shaky breath and suddenly Seth blinked, something like guilt flashing over his face.

"Sorry," he quickly pulled his hand back, eyes clouding up, "I know you don't remember that…or me…or anything. I'm still wrapping my head around the fact that you don't even know me."

Spencer blinked rapidly as well, pulling back and wrapping his arms around his waist instinctively when he realized how he'd just reacted, his brain logging off for precious seconds. His face crunched up in conflict. God, this was just so confusing. He felt so torn, so utterly lost without his memory and nothing but random memories that didn't even coincide. One second he felt scared in Seth's presence, the next..._oh gosh_...

_Just now...what was that...? _

The way Seth had looked at him just now, he'd felt that all the way to his core...

Another memory flashed across his mind, that little scene he had remembered in the shower of them being...close...He still wasn't sure if that was even a real memory but...he thought of what Seth had said just before Carlos had interrupted them. That he had made a choice between him and his brother and saved _his_ life…

"Seth…", his mouth felt dry as he forced himself to form a question to which he knew he needed an answer, and needed it _now_ before his brain imploded, "What…is our relationship exactly?"

* * *

**Good question. Guess it's time for some answers. And I need to figure out just how Seth is going to get Spencer to stay. **

**Review please?**


	11. Aftermath

**This will be short. **

**I'm afraid I've maneuvered myself into a bit of a corner with the ending of the last chapter and I haven't yet figured out how to continue. I mean I know of course where I want it to go, I just don't know how and how fast right now. I just keep thinking about how I would feel if I were in Reid's situation. I think I'd wanna go home and try to remember there. But that can't happen here of course...**

**I just dunno, guys. You'll have to give me a while.**

**So yeah, instead, since someone asked about the team here's a little flashforward to that.**

* * *

_Their tombstones are next to each other in the cemetery. Four empty graves, four glaring reminders of holes that cannot, that will never be filled. _

_Maybe if their bodies were here it would be easier for him to believe they are really gone, maybe he could begin to find closure then. As it is, he doesn't really believe they are gone, even with the crippling gap in his everyday life, the empty desks in the bull pen, the oppressive silence in the roundtable room., on the jet, in the SUV, everywhere… _

_Even seeing their names staring at him from where they are carved into white stone doesn't make it real. _

_Aaron Hotchner. Jason Gideon. Elle Greenaway. Spencer Reid. _

_It has been four months since their funeral and Morgan still wakes up with clear images of them on his mind sometimes, so clear that it never feels like a dream. He still catches himself expecting to find Hotch sitting behind the desk when he opens the door to an office that is now his, still smells Elle's perfume in the hallways, still hears Reid's animated chatter about this and that, overenthusiastic and impossible to block out. _

_If only he had listened more, paid more attention then instead of being dismissive and annoyed. If only he had been there more, done more… _

_He knows Reid's loss is what is hitting him the worst of all. Not only because of how close they were but because letting the kid get taken hostage was what started everything, what inadvertedly caused the death of all four agents. _

_He just cannot get over that, no matter how often everybody tells him it wasn't his fault. He didn't protect Reid when it was his duty and the ones who took over his job died for it. _

_Sometimes he thinks that the only reason he does go on, that he gets up every day and enters a building filled with painful memories is because of Garcia and JJ. They've lost so much already, their friends, a family. _

_They are brave about it; they have to be, after all life at the BAU must go on. They have welcomed David Rossi and Ashley Seaver with friendliness and politesse but it is clear that new agents filling open gaps only made those gaps all the more painfully obvious. Seaver didn't make it long, probably because of the graveyard ambiance that follows the three of them wherever they go. She's said to be replaced by the end of the month but Morgan doubts there will be any difference. They are broken, torn apart. They only do their jobs because they know they owe it to Hotch, Gideon, Elle and Reid._

_It will never be the same. He will never be the same._

* * *

**_So yeah, pretty depressing, huh? This is obviously set in the future, couple of months after the bar. We can assume that the rest of the BAU was eventually informed about the bar burning down and believe them dead for now. That'll change though, I already have an idea for that that'll also involve Emily (cause I miss her already :( )_**

**_Okay, back to thinking...I'll try to come up with something. It might be a while though. I have somehow managed to schedule the due dates for all of my important term papers around the end of may/beginning of june and of course I havent yet started on any of them so I'll be busy, busy, busy..._**

**_Thanks for reading :)_**


	12. Safer than a bank

**Okay so I did my best with this, which does not mean I'm happy with how it turned out. **

**I just really wanna get to a place where those two can actually have some form of peace or even happiness - cause the first story was sooo drama heavy and the second part of this story will be, too. So yeah, just so you know where this is going to go in the near future…I wanna give them a little break. Someone suggested them going on a boat to relax and I'm partial to that idea. I'd have to get them there of course. We'll see. **

**Thanks for sticking with this, you guys 3**

* * *

**.**

_"I'm not safer than a bank  
But I'll tell you this  
'Cause you're bound to find out  
Nothing is"_

_xxx_

"What's our relationship exactly?"

Spencer swallowed nervously as he looked at Seth. It wasn't an easy question to ask and between what he had experienced today and the little bits that he remembered of them he wasn't sure if he even _wanted_ an answer.

Still, he had to know at least that much if he couldn't ask the other billion questions he had right now. How else was he supposed to decide about how to feel with his situation or what to do with it?

He shifted nervously on the mattress, once again highly aware of the high-risk situation. Yes, he had come here of his own accord…sort of…and he did think that he knew Seth. He was even pretty sure by now that the man cared about him. The question was, _Why?_

Brothers was out, Seth had told him his brother was dead…friends…possibly but somehow that didn't fit with Seth behavior towards him…

From what he'd remembered so far it was very well possible that there was a physical relationship between him and Seth, that maybe they were some sort of…_couple_ even…

He bit his lip, his heart beating slightly faster at the thought. Sexual history and orientation was obviously one of the things he'd forgotten -but at least the latter was relatively easy to guess at. Seth was very handsome by any standards and if he considered the way he had felt in that flashback or even just now when the man had touched his face…

He shivered involuntarily.

_But _even if…

Firstly, he couldn't be sure of their exact relationship and what it entailed, and secondly he still wasn't over how he had experienced the other man today. It was pretty obvious that he wasn't a boy scout by any standards. He was tough, aggressive, armed and seemingly very used to violent and dangerous surroundings.

Spencer on the other hand just felt scared and weak and rattled by those same things. He just didn't see how that, how _they_ fit together…

If he was _with_ Seth how had that happened? Had he also been like the man and just didn't remember? Or had he felt like he did now before? Why had he stayed then?

Either way, Spencer felt more and more nervous the longer he thought about the implications of what he could only assume to be true. If they were in a relationship…what was Seth expecting of him now? If he stayed, would that be like agreeing to going to back to how it had been before?

He gulped, suddenly feeling slightly queasy. Attraction or not…he wasn't sure he would be able to do that. Or that he _should _do it, for that matter.

But then…was else was he going to do?

Leave? He wouldn't know where to go, if he even had friends and family somewhere…and even if Seth told him who to meet, there was no guarantee he would remember them.

Plus, what if he and Seth really were a couple….what if he –gosh- _loved_ him…and would only realize what he'd left behind once he remembered?

Torn, he looked up at Seth tensely, sure that his inner turmoil was clearly displayed on his features. He didn't try to cover it up. He needed an answer. After all, no matter how close they might be, this was like being in a motel room in the middle of nowhere with an almost complete stranger. He couldn't just stay here and go to sleep like that wasn't an issue -no matter what his former self might have done.

"Seth?" he asked, growing warier when the other man didn't answer his question after almost a minute. He was just sitting there looking at him with an oddly strained expression on his face, one that Spencer couldn't clearly identify.

Once again, the thought that if they really were lovers this must be really hard on Seth crossed his mind. He pushed his discomfort at that thought down. There was no way around this.

"Seth?" he asked once again, nervously wrapping his arms around his midsection and picking at the oversized white shirt he'd been given, "I- I'm sorry if… I just have to know…there's things that I think I remember…about us…but there's also so much- I…"

"You're scared." Seth said, his voice sounding oddly hoarse. The implied _of me_ was clearly visible in the creases of his face.

Spencer shifted uncomfortably, hugging himself more tightly. He couldn't help but feel sort of guilty once again. Seth was sitting here, bleeding from a gunshot wound he had gotten saving his life, and yet he was doubting him again…

He opened his mouth, wanting to refute the man's statement, tell him that he wasn't scared of him, just of the situation, but the words wouldn't come. True, Seth didn't look or act scary right now but…

Seth's face darkened as he assessed him, an expression Spencer was quickly becoming used to.

After a long moment, he sighed, nodding to himself. "Who wouldn't be? You have all this shit to process...everything, with Carlos, and this place, and me acting like a complete maniac. I should probably be surprised you're even still here. But then, I didn't give you much of a choice there either."

xx

Seth heard himself talking while in reality he had no idea what to say, not to the actual question at least.

He could fully understand Spencer's worries and of course he'd known that at some point he would have to answer the billion questions that obviously stood between them. Everything considered he _really was_ surprised that the kid was this collected –he had come in here with him without any more protest after the initial panic attack in the car and he'd even helped him dress his wound…

He shook his head.

This kid never seized to amaze him. Even with everything going on, Spencer wasn't the kind of person to just walk away from someone who was hurt, especially if they had gotten hurt for him. It seemed that despite the memory loss, Spencer had kept his most prominent characteristics like his compassion, but also that subtle toughness. How else would he be sitting here now, after everything that had happened today, starting with the nightmares and flashbacks and ending with another violent attempt on is life, and have already pulled himself together enough to be this collected and calm?

It wasn't new to him that Spencer was stronger than he looked, but still he hesitated at that one particular question.

However he chose to answer, it would put lots of additional pressure on him, maybe finally too much.

It could have been easy he supposed, but whatever bonus or get out of jail free card he had had because of the amnesia, he knew he had used that up rather quickly with the way he'd been acting, threatening people and waving guns around and breaking that asshole's hand back there. It all probably didn't exactly scream _trustworthy._

But he couldn't have Spencer leave-

He pressed his lips together tightly for a moment, his attention fixed on the way the kid's fingers were clenching in his shirt.

"I'm…not going to pretend that what you're worried about is nonsense, or that I'm a good man," he finally said, his voice rough, "You saw what you saw."

Spencer tensed even more at those words, just slightly but noticeable. But he didn't move, just looked at Seth out of those damned large eyes. Much too trusting, but at the same time not enough…

"What happened to you _was _my fault. I brought you to that place, that bar. My brother is on me, your friends are on me, _that_," Seth reached up to trail his fingers along the side of Spencer's face where the skin was still discolored, "is on me."

His heart actually ached at that notion and he couldn't help it; even though he knew he shouldn't he lifted his other hand as well, cupping the kid's face and looking at him intently, "But…you need to understand that I would never want- I…_you_, you're everything-"

He knew he was over disclosing, that he was overcharging the young man –he could tell from his reaction, his expression and breathing, even if he didn't try to pull away from him. Still, now that he had started the words seemed to be spilling out of him, unstoppable.

He shook his head, desperate. He had never attempted something like this, being gentle and reassuring and sincere all at once; there had never been the necessity to.

He held Spencer's gaze, willing him to understand somehow. "I don't know how to make you understand this but I swear it's the truth…I _hate_ that you got hurt because of me and I never want it to happen again, in any way…I just wish you would stop looking at me this way…it's driving me insane…but I can't…"

He pressed his eyes shut, suddenly feeling utterly drained, not just from the blood loss and insomnia but also emotionally. He let his head fall, forehead touching Spencer's as he just tried to cope.

He wasn't surprised when he felt the kid stiffen at the increased contact; it was obvious he was overstepping every single boundary there could be here and likely making everything worse with it…he just couldn't help it.

Spencer moved back, out of the reach of his hands and Seth forced himself to let him, to give him some space. He didn't need to look into the kid's face to see how fragile he was right now, how little it would take to destabilize him even further. He hadn't been lying when he'd said he absolutely hated that wary, apprehensive look that Spencer had given him much too often already. He hated that he was seeing a slightly varied version of it now, not exactly pain or fear maybe, but a certain amount of distress certainly.

"Seth…" Spencer had scooted back even further on the mattress, like he had suddenly remembered that he had no actually substantial memory of the man on the bed with him, like reason had finally set back in. He was back to hugging himself, looking terribly lost and vulnerable again.

"I- I don't think I can do this, I don't even know y- I mean maybe I do…but, I know nothing else, just that…I don't know who _I_ am, who you are, how we met, -I-"

Watching the kid stumble through his worries reinforced the heavy feeling in Seth's chest. If he had been a better man he might have agreed right then, admitted that he was right to be wary, to not feel safe around him, that he wouldn't actually feel safer at all if he remembered him. He wasn't though.

"Kentucky," he said instead.

Spencer looked up at him in confusion.

Seth moved back until he was sitting against the bed frame, giving the kid some space being the best thing he could bring himself to do.

"The first time we met was in Kentucky. I was sixteen. It was at a sanatorium. My brother had mental problems and he had to stay there...your mom was at the same place, getting treated for her schizophrenia."

Spencer's eyes widened at his words, it was obvious he was immediately distracted from their prior discussion as a look of utter concentration appeared on his face.

Seth wasn't surprised; that was a lot of information to take in at once. At least it was the truth though. Probably.

For a few long seconds the young man didn't outwardly react at all, then his face suddenly crunched up like he was in pain, realization flashing over his face.

"I remember her," he whispered, a hand coming up to cover his mouth, "my mom. She…she had blonde hair and sad eyes. She would read to me...but she couldn't always take care of me, she was sick…sometimes there was no talking to her. She wouldn't even recognize me. We had to-"

He broke off, his voice trembling. Seth remained silent, unsure how much he had remembered, if it was just his mom or more about him as well.

"Is she still there?" Spencer eventually asked rather urgently, his focus clearly still on his freshly remembered mother. It seemed that it was easier for him to recall things if they were told to him, and if it was only in fragments. Seth made a mental note to remembered that before answering.

"Yes."

"My dad?"

"Split when you were ten."

"Siblings?"

Seth shook his head. He didn't know all that much about Spencer really, just what he had told him back at the bar when they'd been drinking. But so far it seemed enough.

Or too much maybe.

He could practically watch the kid's face falling, a despaired expression taking hold in it.

"So I have no one then," he whispered tonelessly, appearing smaller than ever as he held himself, "No family that misses me and no friends alive."

"There were three of them," Seth offered, "Elle died first. You tried to save her but you couldn't. the other two…Hotch and Gideon died protecting you. They just wanted to get you out of there."

Spencer listened, then nodded, swallowing thickly.

There were tears shining in his eyes suddenly and for a moment Seth was torn between mentioning Agent Morgan and hugging Spencer to comfort him. He did neither, for more or less noble reasons. It left him just sitting by uselessly, not knowing what to do, while more tears ran down the young man's face, tremors suddenly shaking his body.

So there it was then. He should have known that even Spencer wouldn't be able to take all of today's strain without eventually reaching a breaking point. Apparently, it was now.

"I'm sorry," Spencer gasped, trying to suppress a sob, "I just-"

"It's okay." Seth couldn't help but think of Richie right then and that maybe if he could still cry after all these years, he would want to as well.

Instead he finally gave in to impulse and reached out once more, running a hand through Spencer's hair, light and hopefully comforting. Spencer turned his head up at the touch, and Seth already excepted him to pull away again, but this time he didn't. He just stared at him, his eyes shiny with tears and conflict, an expression in them that Seth couldn't fully identify. He smoothed his thumb over the kid's temple, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye.

After a long moment Spencer finally broke eye contact, pressing his lids shut tightly and taking a few deep breaths. There were no more sobs after that; he managed to calm down at least slightly.

"Do you have anyone waiting?" he asked after a while, surprising Seth with the question.

"No," he shook his head, "my brother was the only one and he's dead now."

"How'd we end up in Mexico?"

Back to questions then? Well, that had been a quick meltdown. Not that he was complaining. As long as Spencer didn't ask about _labels_ again he should be good.

"I was here with my brother. You were with your friends and we met again by chance. It was bad timing -for both of us- things got pretty messed up, with Richie, and your friends…they hated me, said I wasn't good for you. They weren't happy when I just took you with me. They were trying to get you back home when we met them at that bar actually."

All true. Sorta.

God, he was really going to burn.

Spencer didn't pick up on his more destructive thoughts, busy processing his story and adding it to what little recollection he had. For all his doubts, he seemed surprisingly quick to just accept Seth's words as truth. Seth couldn't help but wonder how much and what exactly the kid remembered about him. Must be pretty good if it could babalnce out his behavior today…

"Was I going to go with them?" Spencer asked, interrupting Seth's thoughts.

He hesitated fro a moment, truly torn this time.

"I don't know," he finally told him.

In a way, he honestly didn't. Who knew how the whole thing would have turned out, if Spencer would have ended up dead or kidnapped again….

He knew that wasn't what the kid was asking about but he just couldn't bring himself to say no. Luckily, Spencer didn't insist on further details.

In fact, it seemed he had been struggling with the last couple of questions after his little breakdown, clearly too exhausted on every level to even keep his eyes open, much less focus. He had probably just soldiered through the last few questions because he wanted to know so desperately. But apparently this was where mind over matter ended, even for Spencer.

Seth took in the way the young man was barely holding himself upright, looking like he might just drop on the spot, especially now with the adrenaline slowly leaving his body and his worst worries and fears no longer powerful enough to keep him alert.

In a way it was a good sign, Seth supposed. Some of what he said must have had a positive impact at least. It wasn't much (and certainly still not right, a tiny part of his rain supplied) –but for now, in this situation it was probably the best outcome he could have hoped for.

_Baby steps, tomorrow's another day. _

"You should get some sleep, kid. You can't heal if you don't rest."

Spencer nodded, looking almost thankful for a moment before his eyes widened, becoming more alert again despite his exhaustion. Seth followed his eyes as they lingered on the mattress before flickering up to him still sitting on the bed.

He was on his feet before he could get a chance to give him another one of those hated looks. It would have been one too many for today.

"I'll be on the couch in the other room."

"Seth..." the look Spencer was giving him was somewhere between relief and guilt. It told him he'd made the right decision.

"Just sleep," he said softly, "We'll talk more tomorrow. Who knows maybe you'll remember more then."

After a moment, Spencer nodded, still looking troubled though.

"What if I don't?"

"Then we'll figure that out, too."

.

* * *

_(Lyrics by Matthew Good)_

_Okay, done. _

_So yeah, some more much needed conversation and Seth somehow managed to evade all important questions or at least make the answers sound like he is a sane person. Don't know whether to love or hate him right now. (Well, I suppose it is accepted subtext that Spencer drew his own conclusions from the little speech Seth gave and that that is why he was less worried. I spose I'll put a recap of his thoughts into the next chapter.)_

_So please tell me what you think: If you were Spencer and this was your situation, would it have gone this way? Would Seth have convinced you? _

_A little more angst coming up, and maybe some romancy stuff, we'll see how I fare._

_But yes, please, please let me know what you thought of this, if I need to go over it again, or how you think things need to procceed from here. **Review** button is somewhere in this area :)_


	13. Nightmares

**Hey! Don't be surprised at the update. This is really just the second part of the prior chapter. After this I have nothing written yet so it could be a while. Anyway, enjoy :)**

**Thank you for reviewing!**

* * *

The door fell shut behind Seth with a soft thud.

Spencer didn't move for a whole minute, his body seemingly not properly connected to his brain anymore. His whole day had been such a roller coaster of emotions and now that he was suddenly sitting here, alone and in silence, it almost felt unreal.

He kept staring at the door but Seth didn't come back in and all stayed quiet.

_Seth_…among all of his chaotic thoughts he was the most flaring and prominent right now. Even now that his brain was already in the process of shutting off he couldn't help but think about what had just happened.

There was just so much to process…his mother, his family situation…everything he'd just been told.

Seth hadn't been very clear in all of his answers, something he should probably be concerned about especially since the man had admitted to mistakes, and to maybe not having an entirely clean vest…but somehow all that had really stuck in his brain was how despite that the man had seemed so honestly regretful and pained, how obvious it was that his concern and his gentleness were authentic.

It was probably some sort of survival mechanism he realized, his brain trying to cope by blocking out even more things to worry about…but that wasn't all of it, was it?

No, it seemed like they really were in a relationship. From what he'd understood it sounded like they had met again only recently…and had maybe started up an affair. That would mean their relationship was rather young and rocky, but it was obvious that Seth had deep feelings for him. And that for one was reassuring.

So what if others might be at health risk in Seth's company? There was no one else here right now.

The other thing he had been worried about, _expectations_, had also seemingly solved itself with Seth readily leaving him in here alone and giving him space. Like a nonverbal promise that there would be no pressure, nothing too stress about.

It probably shouldn't have been such an utter relief considering how screwed up the situation still was –but in that moment Spencer was just grateful that he had something, some basis to relax on.

Yes, there still were tons of other issues. He would have to decide what to do, if he would go or stay come morning no matter if his memory returned or not. But at least now he felt he could safely postpone those decisions for a while. He was alright. He was safe here. As safe as he thought he could be right now.

With that, exhaustion finally got the best of him and he couldn't manage to fight it off any longer. Yawning, he shifted on the bed and pulled the blanket tightly around himself before settling down. He was asleep almost before his head hit the pillow.

xxx

_Horror rose in him as he stared straight ahead into the bar room. Seth had stopped dead in his tracks next to him, cursing under his breath._

_Demolished tables and stairs, turned over and splintered, the windows broken and the bar littered with broken bottles._

_Bodies. _

_Five of them, sprawled on the ground, unmoving, marks all over them, massive stab and gunshot wounds. Empty eyes staring up at them._

_He felt the air leave his lungs. Dead…all of them…murdered…_

_Then darkness…a shadow creeping towards him in a spiderlike manner, slow and terrifying like a zombie…a monster with eyes darkened by hunger and bloodlust. _

_And he knew he was going to die, die- _

_Before he could even finish the thought the creature in front of him suddenly blurred only to reappear right in front of him and grab him, moving him like a rag doll, one hard hand gripping his hair and jerking his head back while another squeezed his chin in an unforgiving grip, forcing him to face…Seth._

_Seth! _

_With a gun in his hand and the same horror that he was feeling written all over his face. He wanted to reach for him, to scream for help, but he couldn't breathe, merciless fingers squeezing his throat. Then there was a hiss at his ear and pain suddenly, red and flaming. _

_He could feel blood flowing down his chest and wished that he could scream._

_x_

_He could barely think over every aching of every fiber of his body, the dizziness, the racing of his heart. His pulse was rushing in his ears, sweat dripping off his temples, making his hands slippery along with the blood that covered them. It was hard to think straight and he didn't want to try, hoping to somehow block out the picture of Elle's dead eyes…_

_x_

_Hotch's bullets didn't miss their aim. Almost manically, he emptied the clip, killing his attacker._

_x_

_"You have to do something for me. Find the exit. Get home…and please…tell Jack and Haley I love them."_

_He pressed his eyes shut in agony, tears falling down his cheeks. He was sure he would choke on his tears. This couldn't be happening._

_"No, no, Hotch," he all but begged, shaking his head frantically, "You can tell them yourself. Hotch, you will!"_

_"I'm sorry."_

_More blood, on his hands, his clothes all around him…nothing else but cold and darkness. All alone, all of them gone, because of him-_

"NO!"

With an anguished cry Spencer shot up in bed, panting and shaking from the horrible nightmare that had been tormenting him.

He gasped for air, feeling tears burn in his eyes, his heart beating so frantically it almost physically hurt. Fear, live and all consuming was running through his veins like fire, blinding and choking him, leaving him breathless.

He jumped when a door close by flew open and hasty steps approached him, but he couldn't see, disoriented by darkness. Strong hands found him, grabbing him by the shoulders, an urgent, alarmed voice right above him calling his name.

Seth.

Reacting completely out of instinct, he grabbed for the man's shirt in the darkness, desperate for something to hold onto as his body struggled with the panic that was drowning every nerve and cell. Seth had protected him, he had to now…he wouldn't let them-

"It's okay, it's okay," the hands went up to cup both sides of his head and he could feel warm breath on his face, "just a nightmare, kid. Come on, breathe."

The sensation of those warm fingers touching him, the only thing solid and tangible he could perceive right then, the only thing contrasting the darkness threatening to pull him back into the nightmare was like a beacon of light and Spencer clung to it without a second thought.

His fingers clenched in the shirt he had hold of desperately as he sobbed, shaking uncontrollably, horribly afraid that Seth would vanish, that he would be all alone with…

He fought the grip on his face, burying it against a solid chest instead as he tried to get a better hold, to cling on tightly enough to be safe.

After a terrifyingly long moment, Seth's arms came up to wrap around him, pulling him further against his chest and Spencer felt so relieved he thought he might faint.

Seth was with him…he hadn't left him alone with all this horror, hadn't left him to die…he'd been so afraid he would, that he would be left abandoned when he needed someone to save him, to protect him so badly. He wasn't strong enough alone, couldn't-

"Please, don't leave me…please, they-"

"Shh," Seth's voice was right by his ear, his hand smoothing over his hair soothingly, "You're safe. I'm not letting you get hurt. Ever."

"I…oh, god…they…I was so…" He couldn't stop shaking.

Seth held him tightly. "What was it?"

"I-I don't know…it…it's gone now…I just, I was so scared…"

He pressed his eyes shut, trying to focus on nothing but the hand in his hair and the arm around him, signs that he was alright, that he was safe, anything to try and escape this sheer panic that was rattling him to the bone, seemingly inescapable.

He couldn't say anything, couldn't have said anything to explain. He didn't remember now what the dream had entailed…just that it had been horrible. It had been there just minutes ago he knew and it was still there, the horror lurking around the edges of his consciousness, but it was like his brain wouldn't let him see it now, like there was some sort of wall…

"I can't-"

"Don't," Seth said, "It's over…just go back to sleep."

Spencer shook his head desperately, terrified at the thought of being alone with the darkness again, unprotected. He clung to the other man more tightly, "No…"

He thanked whatever power there was when Seth didn't let go or try to escape his death grip, instead running a hand up an down his back.

"Close your eyes," he murmured into his hair, cradling him carefully, "I won't let them get to you. I'll be right here, I promise."

xxx

It wasn't going to get any more surreal than this, Seth was sure. If his dead mother had walked in right now with a baby unicorn in her arms he wouldn't have been more surprised.

Whether it would land him in hell or not he could honestly say that he had lucked out when Spencer had lost his memory and with it everything that had stood between them.

This however, having the kid in his arms, clinging to him and refusing to let go, unable to calm down without him…it really made him want to rethink his stance on the whole God-thing. Although, giving credit where credit was due…Satan-thing.

He stopped that train of thought in its tracks, not wanting to be distracted from what was happening.

It had been about ten minutes since Spencer's nightmare had given the both of them a rough awakening. Again, he had looked so rattled and tormented that Seth had been sure he'd remembered….but again his brain seemed to block any traumatic memories while he was awake, leaving him with just an undefined fear and lots of confusion.

Still now the kid seemed so out of it that Seth wasn't even sure he fully understood what was happening here. How else would he have gone from wary of even being touched by him to clinging to him like his life depended on it?

He looked down at Spencer whose hands were still tangled in his shirt if a little less tightly now. He had calmed down enough that his shaking was almost gone, but he was still all but pressed to him, his wet face buried in his chest.

He looked to be half asleep again by now, exhaustion getting the best of him so Seth leaned back against the bed frame and tried to get comfortable, pulling at the blanket to cover the kid's shoulders with it. Then he just sat there, still baffled by how much everything seemed to have changed in just one day.

Never in a million years would he have thought, expected, dreamed…yes, Spencer was ill, he wasn't thinking clearly…but still. He was here with him, in his arms.

He brushed an errant strand out of the young man's tear streaked face, trying to get a hold of the chaos of feelings inside his chest.

This, as messed up and wrong as it was, felt like the closest thing to perfect he'd experienced in years…He had no idea how Spencer could not remember who he was at all, or who Seth was or how their relationship had really been. But he didn't care honestly.

He could so easily pretend that this was reality, that he really was some sort of savior, or good guy, that Spencer's suffering wasn't really his fault. That this was right.

And he would, he realized.

If he had any morality in him, it wasn't enough to make him tell the kid the truth and drive him away that way. No.

By some screwed up logic Spencer thought he needed him? Could trust him? Was _with _him?

He would let him believe it, and let him believe it till the kid remembered, always hoping it would never happen. Screw the trauma, the nightmares, the questions that would have no answers.

He would explain it all away.

He would try to be the person Spencer thought he needed no matter the consequences. Even if Spencer would hate him for it later on.

Holding the kid in his arms like this and getting a glimpse of what happiness might look like, he simply couldn't make any other decision.

_"Today is gonna be the day  
That they're gonna throw it back to you  
By now you should've somehow  
Realized what you've gotta do  
I don't believe that anybody  
Feels the way I do, about you now_

_And all the roads we have to walk are winding_  
_And all the lights that lead us there are blinding_  
_There are many things that I_  
_Would like to say to you but I don't know how_  
_Because maybe, you're gonna be the one that saves me"_

-Wonderwall, Oasis

* * *

**Ahahaha...seems Seth has really hit the jackpot. Not regarding the self-destruction naturally. **

**So before you ask: No, Spencer hasn't remembered, his brain just won't let him and it will stay like that for a while, too. His subconscious seems to be leading him to believe that Seth protected him from what he's afraid of (which, hey, he did a lot of the time actually). I guess next to Richie and vampires Seth ranks low on the threat scala^^**

**IMPORTANT: **

**So next chapter this story arc will pretty much be resolved and I'll move on to something a little different. I'm not sure what would be best though: **

**Could we do a little show of hands? **

**Who is in favor of me writing the two of them getting closer for a few chapters before Spencer remembers, and Morgan shows up, and they get in trouble with those other gangsters I mentioned? I kinda wanna do that, but I guess if the majority would be too bored with that idea, I could somehow jump ahead a couple of weeks and start right on the drama and then sprinkle in little scenes about their developing relationship in the form of flashbacks...**

**Tell me, this is your chance :)**


	14. New Morning

**New Morning**

Light fell into his face, slowly but insistently raising him into awareness.

Spencer grumbled at the disturbance, still half asleep as he buried his face in the pillow for protection. He didn't want to wake up; it was so warm and comfortable and perfect just as it was right now.

He snuggled closer to his pillow, ready to fall back asleep when…wait, what-? Only belatedly did he realize that said pillow was actually rather hard, and it was _breathing_.

With a start Spencer was awake, eyes snapping open to stare at the broad chest his head had just been resting on, then wandering up to the sleeping face attached. It all clicked back into place in the same second then: Seth, the amnesia, the troubling flashbacks, the attack back at the safe house, Seth getting hurt, the nightmare and then-

Oh. Oh, goodness. Had he really done that? Clung to the man in his panic, refusing to let him leave? What had happened to keeping a distance because he was just not sure of-

That question made him acutely aware that he was not only not keeping a distance, but that he was actually lying half on top of the older man and that there was a hand on the small of his back...

He sat up abruptly, his heart immediately starting to beat faster.

It wasn't a nice feeling to go back to being distressed, especially after waking up so relaxed, but he couldn't help it. Not just because remembering the events of the day before and his dire situation didn't cease to be distressing…but also because of the sleeping-in-the-same-bed-with-a-handsome-but-definitely-strange-on-so many-levels-guy.

Spencer gulped. Nightmare or not, and even if he was almost sure by now that Seth had only tried to help him and that they had probably once been close enough to warrant sleeping in the same bed-

No, actually that thought was only making it worse. No matter how familiar the man felt, or how honest he seemed in his affection…this was too soon, too much, too close.

He didn't know how to handle being so vulnerable in a situation with someone he didn't know how to trust and not knowing what they were expecting of hi- wait, what, _handsome_?

Had he really just thought that? Seriously? He shook his head harshly, startled by his own thoughts.

Seth stirred briefly in his sleep and Spencer froze, sitting extremely still as he stared down at the man like an alien species.

It left him with mixed feelings. His brain was still supplying information about reservations and risk factors and guns and poor impulse control but somehow it failed to really reach him the longer he just sat there and stared down at the man.

Maybe it was because Seth looked so…relaxed in his sleep, so little worrisome…There was slight stubble on his face from neglecting to shave. Spencer couldn't help but notice that the man _did_ have very handsome features, especially when a tight and aggressive expression wasn't distracting from them. Surely with the right kind of smile put on…

He shook his head. Even the fleeting notion that this might be his lover was too much for him to even consciously think about right now.

Instead he focused on how peaceful and warm and safe he had felt just minutes ago. Safe feeling that there was someone there watching out for him, who would hold him and defend him from danger, from his own irrational fear…

Suddenly feeing slightly chilly he wrapped his arms around himself wishing back for his spot under the blanket and a more peaceful state of mind but at the same time disturbed by his own thoughts.

This wasn't right…he shouldn't be thinking like this, feeling like this. He couldn't even remember properly Seth.

But still…he remembered how terrified and ratted he had been before falling asleep. Seth had not only taken care of him, he'd made him feel safe, sheltered…despite everything else that he had done so far, that was practically all he had done for Spencer. And even if there was a physical relationship to be considered, it didn't look like Seth would push him into anything he didn't want. Would it really be so bad to just believe the man at this point, to just allow himself to feel safe with him?

Probably not. He'd already decided that yesterday, too. He was safe with Seth. He repeated the sentence in his head, just to internalize it. Good. There, a basis. At least that he wouldn't have to worry about then.

Which left him with the rest of his problems.

It was obvious that his memory wasn't about to come back, at least not fully. What was he supposed to do now? It had sounded yesterday like he would have almost nowhere to go if he wanted to go home, plus he would be lost there…but he couldn't just stay here in Mexico with Seth either could he?

Who knew what the man's plans were, where he was going to go, who he was going to meet. The thought of more dangerous criminals made him shudder with fear…He didn't think he could handle any more of that. He didn't want to be scared anymore.

The question was if that was even really an option seeing how he was at the moment. Surely the fear, the flashbacks and the nightmares wouldn't disappear just because he left? And at least Seth knew what he was afraid of…

Slowly, and very carefully he got out of bed, mindful not to wake Seth as he slipped into the bathroom and washed up as quietly as possible.

The look into the mirror wasn't exactly moralizing. He still looked awful. His pants were a mess and the shirt, while relatively clean was simply too big on him; his skin was still wildly colored…but at least he was physically feeling better. Not as weak or feverish as before. Hungry maybe. When was the last time he had eaten something? He couldn't remember. Of course not.

_Better get something. Seth will need something too with all that blood loss_.

He hesitated for a moment, deliberating whether to wake the man and tell him where he was going. He decided against it. He needed another moment to himself to think and Seth could probably use all the rest he could get after being shot. After rummaging through the pockets of his jeans, he found some crumpled up bills. It wasn't much but he figured it would be enough to organize some sort of breakfast.

He walked back into the main room to find Seth still asleep. For a moment he just stood next to the bed then, glancing around the room which was dimly lit only by a sliver of light that was falling through a crack in the curtains onto the bed. He looked over Seth's still form, then the gun on the nightstand next to him.

Suddenly he felt oddly nervous, an odd feeling in his gut. It felt safe in here…did he really want to leave the room and risk-

He shook his head, annoyed with himself. Risk what? Carlos and the others hadn't found them or they would have barged in here during the night. And there was no other danger anymore, Seth had told him that.

Right. It was time to get himself together now. It wasn't night anymore, it was broad daylight out there and this was a normal motel without any thugs hanging around and he was just going to buy some sandwiches. If he couldn't do that he wouldn't even have to think about travelling all the way back to the states by himself.

Strengthening his resolve, he walked over to the door and opened it quietly, unable to resist checking if all was clear before slipping outside and walking down the hallway and out of the first exit he found. As expected it was a bright warm day, the sun shining down on the motel's parking lot with burning intensity.

He shielded his eyes at its brightness but didn't move, absorbing the feeling of heat with welcome. It did make him feel better in a way, helping him to focus less on the feeling of unease that he still wasn't fully able to shake.

_Maybe you just need to give it some time…after all yesterday isn't that long ago yet._

Right. Slowly he made his way across the parking lot to a place from where he could see the road. There wasn't much to see, still just desert and a few cars, the motel and a little gas station about fifty feet away. No people around in the heat of the day.

He began walking in the direction of the gas station, feeling a little better with every step. Going into the gas station was hard for some reason he wasn't quite sure about, but his heart was definitely beating faster, worse even as he felt the clerk's eyes on him. He ducked his head, ignoring the look…_Of course he's staring; you look like you've lost a boxing match. _

Quickly he picked up some bottled water and then looked over the available sandwiches, again lost for a moment._ Great, I don't even know if I'm a vegetarian, _he though sullenly. He picked up one of the plastic wrapped sandwiches which apparently had turkey on it and stared at it as if that would help him remember his eating habits.

His heart jumped when there was something, suddenly, flashing across his mind…

_A man around thirty, dark hair and thick glasses…he was sitting across the motel room from him, eating a sandwich, not bothering to close his mouth while he chewed. _

_'You're a doctor, right?... Seth and his silly morality tick…I don't think you're innocent. ..Are you going to get us into trouble?'_

Spencer gasped as he was assaulted by images of being pushed to the ground, a knife glinting in the sunlight… He swayed, blindly grabbing the shelf to steady himself.

"Hey!"

His heart all but jumped out of his chest when suddenly someone grabbed his shoulder from behind.

* * *

**Cliffhanger :D**

**Who is it? **

**Please review!**


	15. Promise

**_Hi, I may have to go over this again but I think it's alright. Took me all week...I hope you'll enjoy it. This is the last chapter of Part 1. After this there'll be a bit of a change in scenery etc. You'll see. _**

_**Thanks for reviewing people, please keep it up!** **How do you like it so far?**_

* * *

_It hit him out of nowhere, his restlessness immediately spiking and turning into panic. He could feel it, a painful grip, bruising him, mad eyes boring into his as the sharp edge of a knife bit into his skin… he couldn't breathe, thrashed but couldn't get free, couldn't escape… _

His legs going numb, Spencer swayed, blindly grabbing the shelf to steady himself. The flashback was hitting him hard enough to steal his sight, making the world around him blur. The feeling of naked panic was overwhelming, choking-

"Hey!"

Spencer flinched violently at the unexpected touch to his shoulder, his senses already overloaded and all instincts honed in on flight. He whirled around in alarm -only to find himself stared at by a startled and bewildered clerk.

"Hey, sorry I scared you, man. You alright though?"

Spencer stared at the man, frozen where he had pressed himself against the shelf, one hand pressed to his chest over his racing heart. It took him excruciating seconds before his brain even caught on to the fact that there was no knife, no hand around his throat…just a very disturbed young man in an ill fitting bowling shirt, looking at him in concern.

Spencer let out a shaky breath, trying to calm down, to get his racing pulse down somehow. Just a clerk, no one attacking him…it had just been a memory…

It didn't help much. No matter how loudly he said it in his head, his heart wouldn't stop racing, his hands wouldn't stop shaking...the fear remained, fully reawakened now after a short slumber. The urge to get away was back with a vengeance, all of his prior confidence gone in a blink, and no matter how much he tried to convince himself that it was unnecessary to be scared…just standing here, out in the open, alone, backed up against a shelf…suddenly he felt anything but calm or safe…

Apparently sensing his tension, the man pulled his hand back after a moment of silence between them, but that worried expression remained on his face.

"You alright?" he repeated, looking at his pale face doubtfully.

Spencer could see his eyes wandering over his face and lingering on where the marks and bruises were. He reached up instinctively, pulling at the collar of his shirt to cover the worst. He didn't want this man looking at him, or asking questions, even if he might mean well…he just wanted out of here…

"Yes, fine," he forced out, fighting the instinct to just duck and run. The last thing he wanted was for the man to run after him because he thought something was wrong. "Just…dizzy. The heat."

He tried to pull himself together at least on the outside, but even he could hear the tension in his own voice and knew he probably wasn't being believed. He clutched the sandwiches in his hand tightly. God, if only he had stayed in the motel room…

In a rash movement, he held up the bottle of water for the man to see, bringing it between them almost like a barrier, "Can you ring this up for me, please? I'm sort of in a hurry."

He wasn't sure how, but somehow he managed to get out of the store with his purchases. The man had given him another couple of odd looks but he hadn't said anything else to try to hold him back.

Spencer stormed back to the motel, all the way feeling like he was being followed, like there were eyes on him, someone in his back even though he was completely alone on the street. When he opened the door to the motel room it almost felt like a physical relief to be back in the half dark and stuffy room, the confined but controllable space, the calm-

There was a sudden movement coming towards him, without warning, far too fast to process what it was. Spencer's body reacted on instinct, still hyperaware because of what had happened at the gas station. He stumbled backwards, but was immediately grabbed and roughly backed against the door, the wood trembling as it was slammed closed by a large hand right next to his head.

Heart missing a beat, Spencer jumped in shock, his hands coming up instinctively to protect himself and hitting a broad chest clad in black fabric. He could feel the muscles underneath rippling in poised tension and his breath caught as he stared up into black eyes that were boring into his, stormy and sharp.

"Seth."

xxx

Seth awoke to find himself in an empty room. Immediately, he was wide awake when he realized Spencer was gone.

_No! _

He jumped out of bed and hastily checked the room for signs of forced entry but there were none –which meant Spencer must have left of his own volition.

The thought hit him harder than it should have, stopping him in his tracks in the middle of the room. Pressure built in his chest and throat as he stared at the unmade bed, merely the ghost of the young man in it remaining now. _Gone…_

Seth's hands clenched to fists by his sides as he fought the emotions rising inside him. Of course he'd left, why would that be a surprise…?

Even without a memory of what Seth had put him through he wouldn't feel safe here.

But…what if he had woken up and _remembered_…Seth realized he could probably be grateful he hadn't woken up with a letter opener in his throat. Then again…maybe the kid had just run out to get the police…

Just as that thought occurred to him there was a sound across the room and the door knob turned. _Cops, Carlos, vampires-_

Immediately falling into action, he dove for the gun on the bed side table, then spun back around and charged the first person to enter the room, slamming them against the door and pressing the gun into their side, ready for anything.

It was only when he heard the sharp intake of breath followed by his name that he took the time to actually look into the face in front of him, shocked to find very familiar and very scared-looking hazel eyes staring back at him.

_Spencer. _

His grip on the gun slipped, causing it to scrape along the door and Spencer flinched, paling even further as he realized it was there and aimed at him. The hands on Seth's chest pushed harder and when it didn't have any effect Spencer whimpered, fear flashing brightly in his eyes as he stood there, cowering from him.

Seth hastily pulled his arm back and locked the gun, shock running through him.

"Shit, Spencer-"

Immediately, he reached out with his free hand to touch the kid's arm, to reassure him -only to see him shrink away, his breath hitching.

Spencer was pale as a sheet, sweating and shaking, looking just as bad as he had yesterday morning. Seth's heart fell; for a moment he really wanted to kick himself for having screwed up yet again, for having caused this reaction…until he realized that something about that wasn't right, that Spencer had already not looked okay when he'd come in…

Had something happened? Where had he been anyway? Had he remembered? Why had he come back?

All of those questions shot through his head at once and yet he didn't get to ask them, too busy watching Spencer unravel right in front of him, shaken by tremors and sickly pale.

He did the only thing he thought might help and backed off to give the kid some space, holding his hand up reassuringly.

"Shit," he cursed again, "Sorry, I thought you were …sorry."

Spencer drew in another deep breath, then nodded shakily, obviously trying to calm himself down. He'd stopped trying to push him away though.

So still no memory then, Seth concluded, he'd just startled him with his behavior, fucking stupid as he was. As angry as he felt at himself, he also felt relieved then. This could be fixed at least, he hoped.

"Are you okay? What happened?" he asked as calmly as he could manage, "Where did you go?"

He waited impatiently as Spencer did his breathing exercises, slowly starting to look a little less panicked but still just as distressed.

"I…breakfast…" he finally got out, and moved his hands minimally.

Seth looked down at the packed sandwiches squished between them in surprise. He'd gone out to get them breakfast?

The thought touched something in his chest that was soft but before he could focus on it, Spencer spoke on, redirecting his attention to the obvious problem he had.

"I…gas station…but then I," he swallowed hard, shuddering, "…it felt so real and this guy…touched my shoulder…and I couldn't breathe…out there…Seth, I can't breathe-"

Without any warning he sank down, his legs giving in. Seth caught him automatically, despite Spencer's bad reaction earlier. They ended up kneeling on the floor together; still Spencer didn't try to push him away, too busy trying to stop himself from hyperventilating.

Seth held him, not as worried as he was relieved still…He didn't have to be a genius to figure out that this was due to another flashback. Seeing how damaged the kid seemed to be that he still wasn't getting better was dismaying of course…but at least it had made him come back here…

He pushed that thought away resolutely, suddenly feeling rather low. Spencer was falling apart in his arms, and all he could think of was himself.

Lightly, so as to not make things worse he ran his hand over the messy shock of hair. Fuck, why did he always feel so fucking clueless and incompetent in situations like this? Easy, he supposed, there hadn't been anyone there to ever comfort him, to teach him how it was done...all he had to go by was what he had tried to do to help Richie when they were younger, after he had been assaulted-

He pushed that thought away, making himself focus on the present. Richie had been beyond fixing, even if he hadn't wanted to believe it then; Spencer he might be able to actually help if he just figured out how to.

"Just close your eyes," he said, "Take deep breaths, it'll get better."

Surprisingly, Spencer actually did as he said, his hand fisting in Seth's vest like it was a life line.

Encouraged, Seth decided to try something. "The guy there…what did he look like?"

Spencer was quiet for a moment, probably confused by the question but then he made an effort to answer, "He…was wearing a bowling shirt, green stripes, a little too large…and long pants, beige with a black belt…with a cell phone on it….he was tan, black hair…brown eyes…a…an earring in his left ear…"

His breathing got more regular as he recounted, little by little, so Seth had him talk about the interior of the gas station and then recount the kinds of sandwiches there had been on display.

"…and I wasn't sure if I even eat meat, and it was so frustrating, so I bought one with egg salad and one with turkey, cause it's at least somewhat healthy, less cholesterol, iron for blood…"

By the time he was through all seven types of sandwiches and his motivation for not buying them and all of his other chaotic thoughts at the time, the worst of the shaking had stopped and Spencer was breathing calmer again, sufficiently distracted.

Seth smiled slightly, glad his method had worked. "Ham for me next time. I'm not really a health nut."

Spencer let out a breath that sounded almost like a laugh, close enough at least. It was a good sound, despite it all. Most of the tension had left his body but some remained like it was becoming a permant part of him; Seth could feel it with the way he was leaning against him, curled into him in a way that made it obvious how much he craved safety, shelter.

Seth still couldn't believe that even as messed up as Spencer was he would ever choose to come to him for that –but he wasn't about to argue.

For a long moment neither of them said anything, then Spencer's hand flexed, tugging slightly at his vest.

"Thank you," he murmured, so quietly that Seth almost missed it.

Another moment, then Spencer sat up, leaning back against the door and pulling his knees up to his chest. He bit his lip as he stared at this hands, calmer now but clearly still troubled. When he looked up at Seth his expression was almost piteous.

"I…I don't know what's happening…I don't even know what triggered it really. I thought I was better, but now I don't know….what if it never…if I never…what am I supposed to do?"

His eyes were shining in that desperate way that Seth was quickly coming to hate, causing a sting in his chest. His fault...

"It will get better," he said lamely.

xxx

_Better..._

Spencer swallowed hard, fighting to keep himself from crying. God, knew he'd done enough of that yesterday. It wasn't easy though. He just felt so lost, so unstable, so scared and it wasn't going away. He looked at Seth, trying to focus on the man's presence in front of him instead of his own dismaying thoughts.

It was hard to tell whether actually Seth believed what he was saying or not. Either way, Spencer wanted nothing more right then than to crawl back into the circle of his arms, to have something steady and reliable, to be told he'd be alright…

He didn't though. Of course not. As much as part of him might want to...

His eyes fell on the gun that was still lying next to Seth on the floor. He closed his eyes, painfully reminded of what he would like to not think about ever, because it was tainting the only source of comfort he had right now.

God, he just wanted to be able to relax, to feel safe...

_Ask him then,_ there it was again, that nagging voice in the back of his skull, a little softer this time, _There is no way around it, even if youre scard of the answer, even if you'd rather not know. You can't take another step in any direction unless you're sure-_

He took a deep breath, trying to gather what was left of his courage. _Just ask. 'Seth, when you said you weren't 'good', what did you mean?'_

He opened his mouth...but nothing came out. He couldn't, couldn't make himself ask that directly, too afraid of the answer. Seth was looking at him expectantly now though, obviously having noticed his conflict. He had to ask something.

"Seth…how do you know Carlos?"

It wasn't that direct, but there was no doubt in Seth's expression that he knew where the question was coming from, or where this was going. His expression darkened slightly and he sat in silence for a long moment; Spencer hugged his knees more tightly, nervously worrying his lower lip.

"We did time together."

Spencer couldn't help but flinch at that answer, something that obviously wasn't lost on Seth judging by the look in his eyes.

"You were in prison?" he asked tonelessly, feeling his heart slamming against his rib cage. He wasn't that surprised probably, he'd expected to hear something of the like, but still...hearing it confirmed was like having your doctor tell you that yes, those stomach pains were indeed cancer.

"Yeah. Armed robbery."

Seth wasn't looking at him anymore, a strained expression on his face as he stared at the wall. It was obvious he didn't want to tell him this...which unfortunately made it much more believable. Armed robbery...

"Oh."

Spencer wasn't sure, but he thought he felt sort of...relieved? Robbery, that was bad, it explained the gun and the bad people in a way he wished it wouldn't, it told him Seth was a criminal...but robbery...well, at least it wasn't murder or something like that.

He knew that that reaction was beyond inappropriate but he couldn't help it. He had already expected to hear something bad. It not being the worst he could have heard was a relief even if it was crazy.

"Did..did I know?" he asked after a moment, voice rough. Even if it wasn't as bad as he might have imagined it in his mind, it was still bad, and unlawful, and if he was involved with Seth then-

"Yeah."

Spencer's stomach clenched.

Seth was looking at him now, an unfathomable expression on his face. He was probably confused by his reaction as well. Spencer didn't know why he was so calm either...maybe because there was no point in flipping out now. It was what it was anyway. All he could do now was to try and deal with it.

The question was if he could.

"What-" he started but then cut himself off, unable to ask what he'd wanted to, "I mean did I-"

"No!" Seth caught on to his train of thought immediately, shaking his head harshly, "God no. That was long before…No. You would have never hurt anyone."

"But-" How did he fit then, how did _they _fit if he wasn't-?

"I didn't do it because I thought it was fun," Seth said suddenly, leaning forward abruptly and interrupting his thoughts. His tone was resembling his expression now, a mix of anger, pain and regret. Spencer couldn't help but tense at his harsh tone, staring at him wide eyed; the last thing he wanted was for Seth to get upset.

"I didn't do, didn't live the way I did because I liked it-" he broke off, shaking his head in frustration.

Spencer watched him with tense worry. What Seth was saying wasn't an answer to his question...or maybe it was in a broader sense. It sounded more like he was telling him about his past...Spencer stayed silent, partly because he didn't dare interrupt, but also because a part of him _wanted_ to know what he was about to find out. To understand Seth better. After all, that might help him, too. So he tried to focus on the pain he saw reflected in the man's eyes instead of the underlying anger. The pain was getting more and more which made that relatively easy.

"It's a shitty excuse," Seth scoffed, "but that's all there is. After my brother and I ran from foster care nobody would help us, I couldn't keep a job with how he was. We had to get by…he was always…unstable. So I became hard, strong, to protect us from people that...I didn't...I didn't mean to become like them, but once I was, it was still better than being weak. I did what I thought I had to, to get us through…"

His gaze was so intense now that it made Spencer shiver; he sat breathless, watching as those dark eyes went from hurt and pained to something...softer? Warmer?

"And then I met you, and you were so different from everybody I knew, so bright and good and pure…I knew I couldn't- but I dragged you down with me into my mess anyway, put you in danger…and even then you still…you tried to convince me I was _better_…you wanted to _help_." Seth laughed mirthlessly, shaking his head. He looked at Spencer and the smile fell from his lips as quickly as it had come, replaced by pain again. "You should've run the other way but you didn't. And look where it got you."

Spencer stared ar the older man wordlessly, his brain busy trying to process everything he'd just learned. He ended up feeling a mixture of unease, uncertainty and pity.

Even if he didn't understand everything, out of context as it was...at least this meant _he_ wasn't a criminal too and Seth...Seth seemed to have been pushed into a questionable lifestyle by bad circumstances.

Had he known this? It sounded like it. Well, if he had, he could imagine that he had done what Seth was telling him about, that he'd tried to help...if it wasn't Seth's fault...

"You didn't mean for it to happen," he said, rather helplessly and even as he did the words sounded familiar on his tongue.

Seth scoffed again, his jaw clenching, "No, but that doesn't make it any better."

Specner bit his lip, torn. He really wanted to ask so much more. About Seth's past...about his brother and what he meant by unstable...about Seth's description of him...but right now there was only one important thing, one he couldn't lose sight of.

"Seth…" he forced out, his nails digging into his knees through the fabric of his pants, "What you...did, how you lived…are you going to keep doing that? With…people like Carlos?"

Seth was queit for a long moment before he answered, "No, I'm done with fuckers like him, with all of that shit. I lost my last family to that, I'm not going to go looking for any more trouble. Don't need to be either. I don't have Richie to look out for anymore and I got some money. I'll just lay low in Mexico, calm down after everything."

Spencer nodded, relieved. Briefly.

'_Okay fine, it won't be dangerous where he is then...at least he won't go looking for danger...is that what you needed to hear? Didn't you hear him...trouble, prison, violence...you can't stay here! No matter what he's promising, how stupid are you?'_ The voice sounded taunting now.

Spencer let himself feel the wooden door in his back and tried to imagine walking out of here now, alone. The thought was terrifiying. More terrifiyng than vague stories about difficult childhoods and prison sentences. He didn't think he could handle facing another one of those episodes, flashbacks, panicattacks without someone there to pull him back, didnt think he'd be able to sleep...

His eyes fell onto his knees and he couldn't manage to look up again as he whispered, "I…I don't know what to do…I'm...scared and...I don't think I can just go back, alone…"

It took so much to just say thsoe words, to even suggest...

He took a deep breath, waiting to see if Seth would say something, if he'd pick up on what he was saying, so he wouldn't be forced to actually say it, but the man was utterly silent and he still didn't dare look up.

"With you…I feel safer with you…but I'm scared of….scared that…"

He jumped, startled when suddenly Seth's hand was under his chin, tilting his face up. Spencer gulped, feeling utterly small and lost as he looked into the older man's eyes, his heart hammering in his chest. Seth's eyes were still burning with intensity, but instead of pain and regret had come something else...an expression so intense, so strong that it took his breath away.

"Stay then," Seth said, the words breaking out like something he'd tried to hold back for a long time, "Stay with me...till you remember. It'll be okay. No more danger, no more fucked up shit, I promise. Just you and me."

Spencer stared into those black eyes helplessly, rendered speech and motionless. He should've pulled away, should've shaken his head and told Seth that he couldn't just do that. He did neither. Seth's fingers were warm and comforting on his face, and the expression in his eyes -while certainly disconcerting because of what it hinted at- was so raw, so determined, so needful...

Whatever was truth or lie, those emotions he saw were real, he instinctively knew. Seth wanted him to stay, and he was offering his help, his protection his company, all things that might just be what Specner needed...

It was almost frighteningly easy right then to take the leap, to let his needs overshadow all thoughts of prison and broken bones and guns. He was broken and lost and pathetic and quite possibly insane with how he was acting right now, he knew that; he didn't care. All he wanted...

"Promise I'll be safe with you?"

Seth looked down on him in utter silence for a long moment, his eyes pools of impenetrable blackness.

"I promise," he finally said, brushing his thumb over Spencer's cheek as if to cement the words, give them the right connotation.

And that was the first real lie Seth Gecko told Spencer Reid. The beginning of their story.

xxx

_Months later, looking back on that day, he knows perfectly well that if there ever was a real opportunity for him to walk away, that was it. _

_Back when Seth was still uncertain about how far he'd be willing to go to keep him, distracted by their trauma and losses. Back when there was nothing but the premonition of possible attachment holding him there, when he wasn't yet helplessly dependant on what would inevitably lead to his destruction._

_He didn't see it then, of course not, didn't understand. _

_The urge to run was always there, on that first day as it is now. It may have grown weaker, over months and months of nightmares and beautiful lies, but it never fully left, like a nagging voice at the back of his skull, a constant reminder that he isn't and that he never was okay. _

_He learned to ignore it, out of sheer necessity. Just wanting to stop feeling afraid, he never spent much time trying to analyze the feeling, just pushed it away with all of his strength._

_ Readily misinterpreted it, accounted it to that dreadful night in the bar that he couldn't remember, the trauma suffered that they never truly talked about after those first few days._

_ Lived through the terrifying nightmares shaking him up almost every night, relying on Seth's strong arms instead of psychotherapy to glue over everything that was broken. _

_With no idea what he was running from, and not knowing where to run to, he simply stayed, waiting for things to miraculously resolve themselves. _

_Now that they have, he almost feels worse than on that first night. _

_He can't think, can't sleep, can't stop shaking, can't breathe. And again, he can't run even if this time he is sure that he would do it instantly given the chance._

_xxx_

"Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards."  
-**Soren Kierkegaard**

xxx

**End of Part One.**


	16. Preface Part 2

**Part 2**

_**Preface**_

_**xxx**_

"Come on, let's go!" Eddie urged the group of men in front of him to fall into action, "We're all fucking dead if we don't get this mess sorted out! The cops are on our asses; we can't hide out in here forever, we need to move the cars from in front of the building!"

"But-"

"Fucking what? Joe's gonna kill us if he finds us here just waiting it out like sitting ducks! We need to regroup, we need a plan! But first we need to move the fucking cars before he gets here, so move!"

Furious, Eddie stormed towards the door, everybody else following, "Blonde, you watch them until we're back."

Reid flinched as the metal door to the warehouse fell shut behind the last man, leaving behind a tense silence that was filled only by ragged, pained breaths and the stark, cruel contrast of humming.

The man making the latter sound was sitting atop the roof of an old car that had been covered with tarp, looking down at him with an amused, calculating expression as he smoked a cigarette.

Reid couldn't suppress a shiver as he stared back, the feeling of dread perpetuating itself in his stomach by now. If he'd felt terrified and trapped with the whole group of upset criminals here, spilling blood like it was soda, it was nothing compared to how he felt now that he'd been left alone with _that _man.

Mr. Blonde, they called him for some reason. Tall, dark, homicidal. A glint in his eye that would have put the late Richard Gecko to shame. The worst of them all, shunned even among a group of thieves and murderers, because he wasn't controllable, because he was a mass murdering psycho. Reid could still see the drying blood on his clothes from the three people he'd shot dead not an hour ago, next to the blood that had been spilled just minutes ago when he'd been busy beating on-

Reid's eyes flickered to the motionless figure to his left, tied to a chair and beaten bloody and unconscious.

The sight turned his stomach, making him sick, and he had to look away.

He hadn't been able to stop them, forced to stay inactive, all the while terrified that they would kill him in their brutality.

He blinked forcefully, trying to swallow his panic. How had it come to this? It wasn't supposed to end this way! _He_ had promised-

The man, Mr. Blonde caught his look and grinned, flicking his cigarette aside. Then he jumped off the car and walked towards him slowly, taking off his jacket and revealing his sidearm in the process.

"Alone at last."

Reid felt his heart hammering painfully against his ribcage as the man came uncomfortably close, within reaching distance. He forced himself not to try to back up, knowing it would be of no use other than showing his weakness even more. He was hurt and unarmed; he wouldn't be able to get around this man to the door.

Plus, he couldn't just leave-

Still, he was so, so afraid. Terrified to the core. He just knew, _knew_ that this was a horrible, horrible turn of events.

_God, someone, please come back…anyone, anything is better than he…_

How could they just have left, after seeing how unstable his man was, how easily killing and maiming came to him? The answer was, they probably just didn't care. Not about him anyway. He was of no use to them anymore now.

A chuckle, much too close to his ear. Blonde had stopped right inf ront of him.

Reid suppressed another flinch, stared at the stains on the man's shirt, if only so he wouldn't have to look into his eyes. Over his rushing pulse in his ears, he could barely hear the man's voice.

"I don't think our friends will be coming back very soon," Blonde mused, that sick smile still in his voice, "They'll be pretty busy trying to fix that mess we've maneuvered ourselves into. Hm. Don't you figure they shoulda stayed and kept trying to make him talk instead?"

He leisurely stepped past Reid, towards the chair, towards him-

Reid spun around, breaking his enforced silence before he could think better of it, fear winning over reason. "He's not going to tell you anything if he hasn't so far! Don't-"

Blonde halted and turned back around, smirking cruelly, "Don't need to torture him anymore, you think? Hmm, I'm not sure. We were on such a roll before Eddie boy interrupted our fun…"

Reid shook, horrified. He couldn't let that happen, couldn't let him get hurt any further…he would die!

"Look," he tried to sound convincing, not like he was begging, "even your boss said there was no set up. It was all just a missunderst-"

He broke off midsentence when the man suddenly grabbed his jaw, squeezing the bone painfully as he got into his face.

"A lotta people are dead because of that misunderstanding," he said darkly, "And a lot more will soon wish they were."

Reid stared up at Blonde, frozen, not even daring to breathe. The criminal took in his expression for a long moment, the gleam in his eyes speaking of nothing good.

"Look, kid," he finally said, deceptively soft, "I'm not gonna bullshit you, okay? I don't care about any traitors or information or vengeance, that's Joe's problem now. I don't need to torture anyone for information…but I'll do it anyway. Because I'm bored and it's amusing."

He pulled something out of his pocket, holding it up for Reid to see: A knife, razor sharp and glinting in the light from above. There was no mistaking the glee in his eyes as the color washed out of Reid's cheeks and he trembled, unable to hide the reaction any longer.

"No-" He tried to pull away, panicking, but the man's grip on his was like iron.

"What, don't wanna go first? You sure now? If I get done with you before our buddy over there wakes up I might even make it quick-" he looked into Reid's wide eyes and laughed, "Nah, scratch that. I bet you scream real nicely…wouldn't wanna miss a minute of it."

In a flash, he brought the sharp side of the knife to Reid's neck, pressing in until the young man winced. Before Reid could pull away, he quickly released the hold on his face only to grab his neck instead, holding him still with force. He smiled down at the younger man as he watched Reid's breath quicken in a useless attempt to evade the deadly blade.

"I figure I shouldn't start with your face," he mused to himself, thoughtfully dragging the blade over a pale collar bone, "Wouldn't wanna piss on the wrong tree, eh? Not that any of the guys are still gonna care much about what happens to either of you after all of this shit."

"Please-"

"Save it," he was cut off, the man shaking his head, unimpressed, "Whatever you think you've got going for you, kid, that don't mean shit to me. To Joe maybe, he likes deals and bargains, and I guess he really wanted Seth on board with this…but Joe ain't gonna wanna see your face now, is he? You can probably be grateful it's me who gets to you first."

Blonde laughed.

"But go ahead. Scream if you want to. Maybe if you're loud enough _he _will hear you." he jerked his chin in the direction of the man on the chair, grinning, "Save me the trouble of giving him a rude awakening, you know? Don't reckon he's gonna love hearing you cry and beg as much as I will, but then, that's what you get for messing with the wrong devil, eh?"

The first cut had blood splashing over his already soiled shirt. Reid couldn't suppress the cry of pain that was ripped from his throat, struggling helplessly in the man's grap.

_Please, just please, someone...anyone..._

_Morgan...Seth..._

But he knew they wouldn't be able to hear him, or help him now, even if they were to try.

The second cut had his vision darken with black spots.

* * *

**_:D_**

**_What do you think? Little game changer there so you won't get bored. Don't worry if you're confused now, this is obviously a flashforward to the very end and you're missing a piece. But yay for Micheal Madsen, right? ;)_**

**_Okay, so I might need a while to figure out how to organize the second part of the story and when to bring in what elements. Be patient, okay?_**

**_Oh and please, review if you have a moment. Thanks!_**


	17. The Beginning

**_That was then, this is now_**

**_Part 2_**

**_._**

_The days pass him, nothing but a blur of shades of grey, time creeping torturously slow while he stares at the same dull wall and the same crestfallen faces. They too are starting to blur together; only the most persistent of visitors manage to break through the whirl of chaos that is his mind. _

_David Rossi is one of those people. He hates his visits the most -except maybe for Garcia and JJ's teary appearances- hates seeing Rossi because the man's presence is a glaring reminder of an absence felt, of the man that should be in his place but is buried far away under red desert sand instead. _

_Spencer tries to block him out, if only because it hurts being reminded of Gideon, but somehow David Rossi always manages to get through to him with sheer stoic persistence. He keeps coming back into the small, stuffy room to sit across from him with an expression that Spencer guesses is supposed to be trustworthy, or maybe encouraging. He doesn't care to look closer. It's bad enough he can't always block out the man's voice. _

_"Why won't you just tell us what happened? We already know most of what Gecko and Cabot's men did. We just need your testimony."_

_Spencer doesn't answer, doesn't make eye contact._

_"Are you afraid? No one is coming for you here, you know that right?" _

_Yes, he knows that perfectly well. _

_Still, he hates how Rossi makes it sound likes it's supposed to make everything better, like the simple fact that he is physically separated from them, from him, from the past makes any of it less real. Like it hasn't left permanent marks on him. _

_"Just talk to me, son." _

_Spencer glares. Not for the first time these past days he feels rising irritation break through the carefully constructed indifference that has a hold of him. He doesn't know what Rossi wants from him, what he is hoping to get from him. There is no one out there for the BAU to catch anymore, not after the raid, and surely there are plenty of witnesses' statements stapled on Rossi's desk already. _

_What does he need him for? _

_Maybe he wants a confession. An admission of guilt. Maybe he is starting to look past the black eye, past all the bruising and gauze and see the truth. Rossi wasn't part of the old team, he isn't blinded by who Spencer used to be as much as the others. It's very well possible that he sees what they won't. _

_Spencer wishes he would just accuse him right out and stop playing these psycho games that they both know all too well for them to work._

_"What do you want then if you already have all the answers?" he asks stoically._

_Rossi frowns at his tone but remains so collected it's almost infuriating. "What I'm interested in isn't so much the _what_ as the _how_ and _why_. We know Seth Gecko was contracted by some of his old acquaintances to pull off the diamond heist."_

_Spencer winces at the mention of Seth's name, cursing himself when a brief shadow flashes over Rossi's face. _

_The old man waits for him to answer but when he is once again greeted with silence he sighs._

_"But…there are a lot of loose ends, things that just don't add up about how it all ended. So why don't you tell me about that? How was the deal made? How is Gecko even alive? Where has he been all this time?" _

_Spencer can hear the implied, 'Where have you been?' clearly. _

_So that's what this is really about. Again. They know all about the diamond heist, they probably even have enough witnesses to put what remains of Cabot's team away for good. What they really want is to pin something on Seth. Something other than the robbery. A murder or six, something like that. _

_He presses his lips shut tightly._

_Rossi is obviously getting frustrated with his continued lack of cooperation but he is not giving up yet. "Why do you think you can't tell me? It's a simple question. What happened that you wound up with the likes of Joe and Eddie Cabot?"_

_Spencer shrugs, "Karma maybe."_

_It's silent for a long moment. Maybe Rossi finally sees that he really doesn't want to talk about that, so he relents and looks for a new way in, promptly finding the only subject Spencer wants to address even less._

_"Okay. You don't have to talk about Cabot. Why don't we start from the beginning?" he suggests, "What happened on the night that Agent Hotchner, Gideon and Greenaway died? What happened afterwards?"_

_Spencer stares at his hands, watches them clench and unclench on the table. _

_"Dr. Reid," Rossi presses him, "Half the BAU died that night, you are the only survivor. Don't you think their families deserve to know what happened to them?" _

_It's probably not supposed to sound like an accusation but Spencer flinches anyway. _

_"Why?" he asks bitterly, "Knowing how they died is not going to bring them back." _

_"No, but it might provide closure."_

_He shakes his head, hands clenched so tightly now that his knuckles are turning white, "No. It won't. They are better off not knowing. If I could forget I would."_

_He really does. He usually is pretty good about blocking out the horrid images of their deaths but it's a little harder here with nothing else to focus on, especially if he is constantly reminded of them._

_"I can only imagine what I must have been like for you, seeing them die. It changes a person. We all understand the effects of trauma. Your old team wants nothing more than to support you and help you get better, to return to a normal life now that it's all over. Why won't you let them?"_

_Something about the pitiful tone in Rossi's voice has anger flaring up in Spencer again and this time he can't quite push it back down. What does he know anyway? He wasn't there, he doesn't have to live with them on his conscience._

_"You want to know what happened?" he snaps, "I killed them. Hotch and Elle and Gideon. They are dead and it's my fault. "_

_He hates the way his voice cracks, even after such a long time, just thinking about what happened, how they came to save him and ended up dead because of his weakness, his stupidity. Living on with that on his conscience is punishment enough one might say, but if Rossi wants to he can lock him up for it, not like he cares anymore._

_But of course Rossi doesn't bite, he just continues to be infuriatingly understanding. "I know you blame yourself but it wasn't your fault, Spencer. I'm well informed about what happened with the Gecko brothers, the bank robbery and the hostage situation. They had killed dozens of people before that, they were extremely ruthless and brutal. You never had a real chance. Not then and not after the bar when Seth Gecko abducted you yet again."_

_And back to Seth, a neat full circle. Rossi really wants him it seems, more than anyone else involved._

_"He didn't-" Spencer starts to protest but then breaks off. No point in trying to explain. Rossi won't understand. No one will._

_"I'm sure it was easy for him," Rossi says darkly, "Even easier than the first time. You were injured, exhausted, traumatized. He abducted you again and he didn't let you go for four months to follow, and even then you were only rescued because he and Cabot screwed up the diamond heist and were busted." _

_He pauses minutely, then, "What I don't understand is why. Why did he keep you alive? He had the money, everybody believed he was dead. What did he need you for?"_

_Exhausted, Spencer closes his eyes, almost feeling the fleeting whisper of calloused fingers at the base of his skull, the only semblance of warmth in this room. He doesn't want to talk anymore, especially not about Seth. It hurts too much._

_"Nothing," he whispers the truth._

_"Nothing," Rossi nods, promptly turning his words around, "My point exactly. He was free to go wherever he pleased. The logical thing would have been to just leave you there, maybe even kill you so you wouldn't be able to tell anyone he was still alive. Instead he took you with him."_

_He looks down at the file on the table; Spencer recognizes Morgan's faded handwriting on the file. "Agent Hotchner called Agent Morgan that night, did you know that? He told him that you were injured…he voiced the suspicion that you had been sexually assaulted as well as physically." _

_Spencer's head snaps up, eyes sharp and blazing. _

_Rossi's eyes are suddenly just as sharp as he leans forward, "We thought it was only Richard Gecko but that's not the truth at all is it? He raped you, or he watched his brother rape you. Keeping you alive was for his benefit solely, so he could do it again. It was enough to keep you alive, to keep you locked up somewhere and-"_

_"No!" Spencer finally snaps, unable to take it anymore, "No, he didn't. Didn't rape me. He didn't-… It wasn't like that. He never-"_

_He breaks off, voice trembling as bad a his hands now, old memories resurfacing, hurting. But Rossi won't let up, suddenly tenacious now that he is getting a reaction out of him._

_"He never touched you again your will?" he fires back challengingly, "Or he never kept you prisoner?" _

_Spencer just glares, shaking his head. "You don't get it."_

_Rossi grinds his jaw, his expression strained, "You have multiple doctorates, Reid. Surely you are aware of a condition called Stockholm Syndrome. Maybe, over the course of all those months Gecko has somehow managed to manipulate you into…this. Now, for your benefit and for that of your old team mates, I am trying to be considerate of your dilemma. But I cannot continue seeing you as a victim much longer if you keep defending the culprit. You need to wake up and see what he's done to you! Certainly you don't mean to tell me you wanted to be kept away from your friends and family for months, or to end up on the brink of death in that storage unit? Or that you went willingly with a man who you witnessed brutally murdering your entire team, your friends-"_

_"He didn't-!_

_"He's a murderer! He doesn't deserve your protection! He deserves to pay for what he's done!"_

_They stare at each other across the table, both infuriated now but trying to control their emotions for their own sakes. Spencer regains control first, his anger bleeding away into cold defiance once more._

_"I think I'm done talking to you, Agent Rossi." _

_With that he leans back and looks away. He doesn't listen to any more questions. _

_They will never understand why. And as long as they don't, he sure as hell won't tell them how, no matter how glaring those memories are on his mind these days._

"Don't just run off, for fuck's sake!"

Spencer jumped, his heart missing a beat when a hand came out of nowhere, grabbing his upper arm and pulling him out of immediate sight.

He ended up between two book shelves with Seth frowning down at him, alarm slowly fading from his features but one hand still on his arm. Spencer let out a sigh of relief once he realized it was him, leaning back against the sturdy shelf in his back.

"Sorry, I-"

He closed his eyes and tried to calm his heart, his breathing, tried to focus on reassuring facts, like the fact that there was no one in here, just the two of them in this dimly lit and stuffy book store.

"Sorry, I just, outside…there were so many people-"

He had been fine walking down the lively street of the Mexican village with Seth for almost half an hour. It had been crowded and hot and loud, but he had been alright…until one second he suddenly wasn't. Fear had hit him like a freight train, rendering him unable to breathe, ready to panic right there on the market place in midst of music and laughing children.

It had been five days since he'd woken up with Seth for the first time, and every day since then he'd hoped for his memories to come back or for his general state to improve.

He pressed his eyes shut, blinking away tears of frustration. Every time he thought he was better though, something happened and he ended up right where he'd started.

Seth's hand on his arm moved up to his shoulder, lightly squeezing the muscles there and he relaxed into the touch, an almost Pavlovian response by now.

Seth hadn't left his side for the past six days, not after the mishap at the gas station. Having him close, and being afforded the sense of safety it brought made many things better. Still, back out there it hadn't been enough. He'd barely managed to hurry into this quiet little store to save himself from the noise and the claustrophobia and the rising panic.

"My fault, kid." Seth murmured, thumb still moving against Spencer collar, "I shoulda known it would be too much. We're going back to the motel."

Spencer nodded gratefully but didn't move, the thought of even just walking back out there to get to Seth's car horrifying.

"Just a minute," he asked and Seth let up, giving him the time to calm down first.

Spencer kept his eyes closed, just breathing in and out consciously.

It had been going so well. He'd been fine today, the last of his aches finally gone by now, his bruises fading away, a sunny day ahead of them as they walked out of the motel. He almost hadn't hesitated at all at the idea of going into town, feeling much less anxious and tense than even the day before.

If not for the remaining fact that he still did not have substantially more memories than on the day he'd decided to stay with Seth for a while and that he still woke up at least once very night wrecked with nightmares, he would have said he actually felt good then, maybe even a little enthusiastic.

Maybe it had had to do with finally being able to buy new clothes the day prior, shedding the last remnants of blood and pain. It had been in the fifth town they passed through, the second motel.

Seth hadn't explained to him in detail where they were going or what his reasons were for stopping in certain places and not in others, but then, Spencer hadn't exactly asked too often either. He wouldn't have known where he wanted to go even if asked, not that he was too sure on where exactly they were –he just knew the kind of place he didn't want to go and luckily Seth had safely stayed away from that so far so he didn't complain. He just assumed Seth had a –hopefully safe- friend or a certain city he wanted to go see and seen no harm in coming along for now. After all, if he did remember he'd be able to travel home from any place. For now he just didn't want to be alone, so he stayed with Seth.

With each day passing and nothing bad happening, nothing in Seth's behavior towards him changing for the worse, he had become less and less anxious and more and more glad to have stayed.

Sure there still were some questions unanswered, some things that Seth said that raised even more questions, but it didn't make him worry as much as it had in the beginning anymore. It wasn't about him, them, their situation. Whatever had happened in the past, he didn't need to worry about it. That had been then and Seth had promised it would affect him. Maybe it was stupid to think that way but his exhausted brain was more than willing to.

He _had_ asked about the money used to buy them clothes but not gotten a very specific answer, except for Seth insisting that it was alright for Spencer to pick something to wear from the store they'd found. Desperately wanting to get out of his oversized shirt and bloody jeans he had relented too quickly maybe, but was still glad for the new pair of pants, shirt and sweater he now owned. Seth had somehow managed to find something strikingly similar to his old outfit, still clad mostly in black despite the Mexican heat.

They had still been an odd couple judging by looks they had gotten when being among people so far but Spencer had grown less and less bothered by thoughts like that. Yes, the situation as crazy and maybe he was crazy for just continuing on the way he was but Seth had been nothing short of a blessing for him these past days, helping him get through every day and night, making sure he ate and slept, trying to get him used to normal life again.

It made him care less and less about the oddity of the arrangement, made his doubts fade. It was a great comfort just having someone there, to listen, to talk to, someone who understood and who wouldn't leave him alone with his problems. And Seth had listened -but he'd also talked, about his brother and their life, their early troubles. The topic seemed to pain him So Spencer had tied not to pry too much but it had been enough to understand the man better, to emphasize and form a sort of loose bond.

As the days went on Spencer had started to think less and less in terms of, 'Hopefully I'll remember tomorrow so I can go home`, instead growing to enjoy Seth's company. His compromised state was still troubling of course but by now he'd resigned himself to just waiting it out.

Preferably not _here_ though.

Spencer opened his eyes to look around the little store. There was an older man standing by the cash register looking at them funny. Seth followed his eyes and glared at the man silently, making him quickly look away.

Spencer grimaced, feeling a mix of guilt and relief at Seth's behavior. The man hadn't done anything, but these days, anything was setting him on edge.

"Maybe we should buy a book," he murmured, guilt winning over momentarily.

Seth shrugged, indifferent, "Pick some out then. Spanish TV is starting to get on my nerves anyway."

He walked out from between the bookshelves, further up to the cashier's register, never out of Spencer's sight though.

The young man looked after him, unmoving, for a moment, then he sighed and finally pulled himself together, straightening up. He felt better now, less anxious if not completely. He hurried to find something else to focus his thoughts on, in this case the abundance of books. Going through the book titles around him gave him a feeling of déjà vu, of familiarity, which for once felt sort of nice instead of scary. Maybe he had liked books? Lots of these titles and covers seemed familiar, even the ones that were in Spanish.

Smiling ever so slightly he picked a few books and then hurried to follow Seth back out into the sunshine.

* * *

**_Been a while, sorry, I had to regroup. Updates might be a bit slower from now on but if you review I promise to hurry, deal? :) _**

**_How is it so far? Are the flashbacks giving you enough/too much info? Is there anything else you'd like adressed/answered? What do you think about Reid and Seth's path? Please take a minute, guys. Thanks!_**


	18. Jump

**Starting back where we left off. Even I am a little confused with this, I think it might just be crap for once. I will go over it tomorrow. **

**Right now I'll post it in the hopes that someone will review and let me know what they think. There's more flashforwards, and Shakespeare, and if Spencer's thought processes don't make sense it's cause they don't. He's messed up. I wanna do Seth's POV but that wopuld probably be even more disturbing.**

**Thanks so much to my three reviewers! Anyone else reading still?**

* * *

Spencer sank down on the covers of the motel's double bed exhaustedly. He closed his eyes for a moment, just relishing the comfort that being back here, away from all the chaos and noise, gave him.

The mattress dipped and he could feel Seth settle against the headboard, stretching out his long legs parallel to Spencer's. The motion was familiar by now, the position something they had adopted over the past few days.

They hadn't talked about it really, the boundaries that might have, that should have been there between them blurred by the unusualness of their situation. Technically, Seth was still a confirmed criminal with a suspicious past, a gun and poor impulse control and Spencer was by far not in the shape to be able to deal with any of that appropriately.

He didn't move away.

He never did anymore. He knew the facts but somehow…it just wasn't like that…somehow the facts had stopped worrying him. Maybe because Seth never did anything worrying now. No smashing thing, no yelling, no bursts of anger….nothing that would have made Spencer worry for himself. He even still slept on the couch –technically- just as he had promised on that first night.

Practically of course, Spencer woke up every morning curled into the older man with the faint remnants of nightly terrors still fresh on his mind.

At first it had always given him an extra jolt of shock. Now he was at a point where he was starting to just feel relieved and grateful for the man's presence that somehow kept away the worst of the horrors.

He had no basis to protest really. Logically yes, maybe, but really there just was no denying that he was the one who clung to Seth, who needed his presence –and accepting it by night but denying it by day just seemed ridiculous if not ungrateful.

So he didn't say anything about their dynamics, even if they seemed odd at times, silently accepting that between two people living in the same motel room and car, boundaries were bound to crumble, especially with their past –whatever it was.

Either way, it wasn't like Seth was pushing him or anything, or making him uncomfortable. In fact, the man rarely touched him without being prompted somehow, to an extent where it almost seemed intentional. Spencer could only assume it was for his benefit, that Seth probably felt his tension and uncertainty and was actively holding back.

Sometimes he thought he could tell that it was hard on Seth, that it put a strain on him -not keeping his temper in check but keeping a distance…In little moments when Seth's eyes would flash at something he said or how he moved, when his fingers would twitch…like he wanted to reach out for him.

Spencer always pretended not to notice. He didn't know what else to do.

It left a tension between them of things unspoken and unexpressed, a tension that was almost palpable at times…

He knew it was something he needed to address…among other things, like whatever had been between them _before, _because that almost certainly had to do with it.

He wanted to ask, if only because he really wanted to know _what _this was.

The reason he didn't was simply that he was scared.

Not scared the way he had been in the beginning, but of something completely different instead. Scared that he would accelerate something that would happen either way by speaking up, that he would prompt Seth into leaving him even sooner once he realized whatever he was hoping for wasn't happening, that Spencer was just broken and definitely not who he had been, who he wanted.

He knew it was probably stupid, being scared to lose someone he barely even knew, but he couldn't help it. He was just terrified to end up all alone, with no one to understand or care, no one to keep him on the edge of sanity when he thought he was slipping. It was utterly selfish but he didn't want Seth to go, to leave him.

But then, what could he do?

He still wasn't sure what exactly Seth was hoping and expecting from him. The general outlines he could guess at maybe…but if so, _that_ was definitely a topic he didn't feel ready to even graze. Not because he couldn't imagine it, not because technically it wouldn't be-

He shook his head. That wasn't the point. _So _not the point. He was already in this _thing_ so deep, the last thing he should try for were further complications…

Still, he couldn't help but think things like that. If he just let it go on like this, how long would it be before Seth tired of this…before…?

"Feeling better yet?"

Spencer blinked at the sudden sound of Seth's voice, then again at the tone of it. The man didn't sound like he was asking, more like he was sure of the contrary. As usual.

Spencer opened his eyes, relaxing his hold on the blanket and trying to do the same with his facial muscles. He didn't want Seth to worry. He didn't want to become a nuisance, a burden. But he also couldn't be better, as much as he tried…

"'M just tried", he murmured, unable to resist the urge to curl up slightly and draw his legs closer to his body. His knees bumped into Seth's leg, making him even more aware of their proximity.

He looked up at Seth to find the man smiling at him in that indiscernible way he occasionally did and that made Spencer wonder what exactly he was seeing looking at him other than a mess.

His thoughts were interrupted when Seth suddenly lifted one hand, reaching out as though to maybe to touch his face or hair. Spencer felt his breath hitch automatically, eyes widening –and immediately Seth halted, blinked, and then reached for the book lying in-between them instead like he'd never meant to do anything else.

Spencer stared, unmoving, torn. Damnit, things like that…just what he had meant.

It was driving him crazy. They were doing this dance, neither acknowledging it, and Spencer didn't know the steps. He bit his lip, conflicted.

He didn't want Seth to come to any wrong conclusions – he didn't mind his touch. Maybe he should, boundaries and all…but it was warm and comforting and grounding, something he needed, wanted…

It was just as much of a conflict as everything else. He might want it, but he still couldn't help but tense when it happened. It made him nervous every time…probably because he didn't know how to react when Seth did things like this, looked at him in a certain way…or maybe because he didn't even know exactly how _he_ felt… He didn't dare classify it.

He looked up at Seth, wanting to say something, to explain himself somehow- but the words just wouldn't come.

The moment passed. The tension faded.

Spencer settled back down, thinking. Seth had long since looked away, focused on the book like nothing had ever occurred, and then it was just like usual again, them sitting together in comfortable silence, resting.

Spencer blinked slowly, trying to clear his mind.

He needed to think but it didn't come easy. He always felt so tired these days, no matter how often he lied down to sleep. Seth didn't seem to sleep at all. Even now, he looked tired but he was sitting there, flipping through the book he'd picked up with an expression that was lightly interested at best.

"What are you reading?" Spencer asked when he got weary of the silence fuelling the confusing voices in his head, eager for a distraction.

Seth shrugged, making Spencer ponder if the man had even glanced at the title. He didn't say anything though when Seth read the passage he was at out loud for him, taking comfort in the man's voice alone.

"_…__but comforts we despise; our size of sorrow, proportion'd to our cause, must be as great as that which makes it,"_ Seth scoffed, an eyebrow raised, "Didn't have anything in English, did they?"

Spencer couldn't help but smile. "That's Shakespeare. That particular scene is very powerful."

He had picked two plays on a whim back at the store, somehow sure he liked them. The idea of some of his memory returning widened his smile even further.

Seth looked at him with an eyebrow raised, probably because a smile wasn't something he saw often on him these days. He seemed to be contemplating something. After a moment's consideration he turned his eyes back to the page.

"Seriously though, what does the guy even want?_O sun, burn the great sphere thou movest in! Darkling stand the varying shore o' the world. O Antony, Antony _-who the hell is Anthony and what's his problem?"

Spencer chuckled, the tension he felt vanishing. Seth's expression now was almost funny.

"He is Cleopatra's lover and he is dying," he explained, "She is calling upon the sun to burn the world because of it. Keep reading, it'll make sense."

Seth frowned._ "…shall I abide in this dull world, which in thy absence is no better than a sty?"_

"See?" His interest peeked, Spencer propped himself up on his elbow to trace the line Seth had just read with his finger, more and more distracted from his earlier thoughts, "She loves him so much that he has become the sole center of her world. And if he perishes, there is no reason for her to stay alive either. The world is grey without him, her life without purpose."

For some reason talking about the play made him feel almost warm inside, calming him in a more profound way than being out of the sun could have. He felt like he was within reach of something, a piece of himself, and getting it back felt like getting stronger.

A little late, he realized Seth's lack of response, and looked up to find him gazing down at him, that unfathomable expression back in his dark eyes.

Spencer's chest constricted. He couldn't be sure but he thought it looked like pain. For a moment he was at a loss but then- _Oh._

What had he been thinking-?

"I'm sorry," he mumbled hastily, casting his eyes down.

"Huh?" Seth sounded confused.

"Your brother." Those lines had obviously reminded Seth of him and he'd been too insensitive to see the connection. "You miss him a lot, don't you?"

Seth expression shifted once again at that, still unidentifiable but definitely darkening with emotion.

"What's done is done," he finally said, turning his eyes away, "No use crying over spilled milk."

It almost sounded authentically indifferent but Spencer could see the tense line of the older man's jaw, the way he was holing himself, clearly upset. His chest constricted from guilt.

"You can talk about him if you want to, I could-"

"No," Seth said abruptly, maybe a little too harshly, before catching Spencer's startled expression and sighing, softening his tone, "I don't want to think about him."

Spencer looked up at him, thinking about him not sleeping, not resting, about the shadows in his eyes that hinted at his inner conflict. Seth was doing what he could to help him, and he was always so tough that it was easy to forget that he too had lived through a nightmare, that he'd lost a loved one….

"Maybe you need to-"

"No." This time Seth's tone made him actually flinch, and it didn't soften. Spencer felt his stomach clench. One step too far.

"This isn't some fancy story, this is reality," Seth snapped before dropping the book onto the mattress between them, and getting off the bed.

He walked over to the desk by the door, halting there for a moment without turning around. Spencer had sat up, startled, and watched him with a sudden feeling of heaviness pressing on his chest that felt awfully like fear, his heart beating fast and loud. _No…_

He wanted to say something, to take back what he'd said…to make the nice comfortable atmosphere reappear in the room, "Seth, I-"

Seth shook his head, hand reaching for the half empty pack of cigarettes on the desk and picking it up. He just stared at his hands for a long moment it seemed, both of them silent and tense.

"There was a point…" Seth eventually said quietly, still not turning around, still sounding angry underneath his obvious hurt, "…when I might have wanted to see the world burn without him in it."

Spencer stared, his breath held.

Seth straightened up, his fingers clenching around the cigarettes and Spencer could practically hear his teeth grind. "But I know I made the right decision. He's better off dead and I'm better off without him. Given the choice, I would do it all over again. All of it."

And with that he was out the door, leaving Spencer in the silence.

Spencer stared after him for a long moment after the door clapped, trying to process what had just happened. _God, just how stupid-?_ And now Seth was gone...He immediately felt scared, scared to be alone, scared that Seth would not come back although he hadn't even taken his jacket or keys….

He wanted to get up and run after him –he didn't, because Seth had left because of something he'd said…he wouldn't want to see him…

The thought made him feel more miserable, more panicked and breathless than could have been reasonable but he couldn't help it. He ended up curling up on the bed, hugging himself as he stared at the door, his body unmoving while his mind raced and raced….

Alone.

And it was his own fault.

Why had he said what he did…? Why- But Seth would have gotten fed up with him eventually anyway, wouldn't he? It had only been a matter of time.

But then…what had he meant just before he'd left?

_I would do it all over again_. Somehow he was sure Seth had been talking about his brother, the choice, but also about _this_, about them. _All over again…_

It didn't make any sense. He would have done everything the same knowing it would end like this? Why? Who on earth would-? Had he...for him...? Did that mean he would come back for sure? Better yet that he wouldn't leave for sure? How could he-

Spencer didn't know he'd somehow fallen asleep until the nightmare shook him up with a gasp. He jolted, body locked in fear, and tensing even more when he felt a touch to his arm…just there where _he _had held him down just seconds ago…

"No…" he whimpered, shaking.

It was dark all around, the stuffy air in the room suffocating him…monsters just waiting, knowing he was alone….

He curled in on himself, desperate to protect himself somehow, but the hand on his arm tightened and then strong arms pulled him into a warm embrace from behind.

He gasped, breath rushing into him, making him dizzy. Utter relief flooded him. Seth.

_Seth,_ he told himself. It could be no one else…he recognized his touch, his smell…he'd come back…

He drew in another shaky breath, trembling…eternally grateful to feel Seth's arms around him - but also terrified to turn around and look at him for some reason. Seconds passed and he just lied there, waiting for Seth to say anything - but he didn't, maybe also waiting, maybe not finding the words for what he needed to say. Spencer felt his throat constricting at the thought…_he would go…fed up with him, angry at him… _

It was one blow too many suddenly, and when Seth pulled away, Spencer's last reason and reservations crumbled, crushed by need, by fear and desperation. Before he knew what he was doing he'd grabbed onto Seth's arm, holding it in place as tightly as he dared, all boundaries forgotten along with his pride.

"Don't-" he nearly choked on the words, "Don't leave-"

He couldn't speak on, his voice gone. He heard Seth breathing out behind him –stock still for a moment before tightening his embrace and pulling him closer. Warm breath grazed the hairs on the back of his neck and Spencer closed his eyes, tears welling up behind his lids.

"I won't." Words spoken so quietly and darkly that he couldn't tell whether they sounded promising or threatening, soft or angry, "Nothing you can say or do will ever make me leave you."

_"He made you feel safe, is that it?" _

_Spencer opens his eyes, finding himself back in the interrogation room instead of a warm comfortable bed. _

_Jennifer Jareau is sitting across from him now, a pained expression on her beautiful face. He has no idea how long she's been there, or when Rossi left. _

_He wishes for Rossi to come back, just so he won't have to look into JJ's hurt and confused eyes that are practically begging with him, to let her in, let her understand. It's cruel sending her in. he told them he didn't want her here but it seems they are out of strategies to get him to talk. _

_"Spence, please. No one is blaming you. After what happened it's a miracle you came out with any kind of mental stability. He manipulated you, made you think you needed him, wanted him, because you were scared and alone. But you aren't, Spence, not now. We are all here for you, we want you back in our lives, You're our family."_

_He doesn't look up, can't make himself, because the truth is he is alone. JJ and the other don't know it yet but they won't want him, not once they really think about everything, about what he's done. He is the reason half of their family is dead. How could they ever want him back? How could he ever deserve to go back?_

_No. He doesn't belong with them anymore. _

_He belongs with Seth. _

_He wants to laugh at that. All they want to hear from him, is how scared he is of Seth Gecko, how much he hates him, despises him for everything he's done, everything he's taken from him. _

_He could tell them just that, it wouldn't even be a full lie. He despises Seth as much as he craves him, an endless battle between mind and matter that leaves him internally torn. _

_He doesn't say anything though, because he doesn't want to hurt JJ even further with the truth, and because he knows she too won't understand, won't be able to see the truth. _

_The truth. _

_The truth is Seth is the one who dug his grave, who bought the shovel and dragged him into the woods to make him watch as he made the hole. _

_But the truth is also that even if Seth pushed him to the edge, in the end it was Spencer who jumped. _

_There simply is no coming back for him._

* * *

**Working my way up to blood, sweat and tears -well, the clean version of it now due to site policy I guess. Kisses and killers ahead :)**

**Please review!**


	19. The Scottish Play

**Hi! I want to say thanks for all your reviews! I'm really happy you're all still interested in this story :)**

**So this is the second part of the Shakespeare thing. Poor Seth, being made to talk about literature. I would have made them talk chemistry but that's not part of my studies, so bear with me, Seth.^^**

**This will be Seth's POV cause he haven't had much of that in the last few chapters. It might be repetitive sorry. Next chapter will be something new, promise.**

* * *

Seth didn't even try to sleep after Spencer had eventually drifted off. He just lied there in the dark, holding the young man's lithe body against him closely and thinking.

He had hardly slept at all since the bar, since Richie - partly because he really didn't want to see his brother die again as he was sure he would, but also because no matter how many days passed without any occurrences, and no matter how often he told himself that everything was alright now, he just couldn't seem to relax, to get a reign on his paranoia.

It wasn't just the vampires and the array of other possible threats that were causing it though –in the end he knew he'd be able to deal with anything, any danger, any attack.

What kept him up was Spencer.

More specifically, it was fear. Fear that he would close his eyes one second and the kid would be gone, fear that he would run, or get taken…fear that something would happen to _him_ while he wasn't paying attention…fear that he would wake up to find nothing that had happened in the past five days had been real, that it had all just been an illusion.

The thought of that scared him more than could have ever been sensible or sane…but he couldn't help it. While the aftermath of what had happened in the bar had left Spencer messed up enough to cling to him this desperately, it had left Seth in much the same way. He knew that wasn't entirely true of course –he'd been unhealthily obsessed with the kid even before everything – but the end result was the same. They were dependant on each other now, neither able to part with the other.

_Until he remembers…._

Seth's arms tightened around Spencer who sighed in his sleep but didn't wake.

No, he didn't _want_ to go to sleep, not while he could be awake and have…this. Spencer with him, in his arms…wanting him there, needing him, curling into him… Carefully, he traced the sleeping face in front of him with his knuckles, taking in the beautiful features that were relaxed for once, watching over Spencer's sleep…

He didn't think he would ever get over seeing him like this.

Now that he could be honest with himself he knew that he had been hopelessly infatuated with everything that Spencer was from the beginning, the way he looked, talked, thought, cared, smiled, blushed, sighed…it had all burned itself into his core, so much even that no matter how infuriated he had been at times by Spencer's actions or words, it had never been enough to erase _that_.

_That_ feeling, that spark inside him that he hadn't even thought existed anymore up until that point. That one focal point in the chaos that was his life, his mind, that made him see things clearly for once, that let him see what he was and what he could be.

If not for Spencer he never would have seen it, never would have changed anything. He would have just kept on going down his destructive bloody path until he died.

Or until Richie died.

His little brother, the only one who needed him. Had he died at any other point, there would have been no telling what Seth would have done.

Now though, it was all different because he had Spencer. Spencer who needed him, whom he could look at and very briefly not feel his whole existence be swallowed up by despair and darkness.

Of course their relationship was still a constant struggle –how could it not with how they both were- but everything had shifted, changed. Spencer was growing less and less tense and distressed with every day, and even if the nights were bad, he could help him through them. That made it easy for Seth to justify what he was doing, to not stop himself.

Spencer was getting healthy, and he was starting to organize his days more, slowly getting back a life, hell, today he had seemed almost _happy_ reading that play, it had seemed so easy just being together and talking, almost like nothing was missing, like everything was alright…

Of course he'd messed it all up, like usual. He simply hadn't been able to stop himself.

Not out of anger as he knew Spencer had suspected, at least not anger at the kid for mentioning Richie…anger at the situation maybe. Anger at himself, for not being reminded of his brother at that play scene but of _them_ instead, anger for not being able to stop thinking about how Spencer's smile was audible in his voice, how he was so close that he could lean down and kiss it from his lips, taste it…anger that he couldn't seem to stop himself from not only entertaining these dangerous thoughts but also from acting upon them, touching the young man, getting too close…

He knew he was playing with fire, that if he pushed it too far he would destroy everything just like he technically already had last time. That Spencer would wake up and realize he was a criminal, a monster just like Richie had been.

He blinked harshly, trying to chase thoughts of his brother away. He didn't want to think of Richard. Especially not in connection to Spencer. Or to himself.

He wouldn't let it come to that. He wouldn't be that man. Not this time. This time he would do it right. Or slightly less wrong at least considering the whole amnesia-lying-kidnapping-thing he already had going on.

He would be someone Spencer _wanted_ to stay with.

But for that he really needed a grip on himself. He couldn't keep flipping out like he had earlier, get emotional, get angry, get violent…that was the old him, the part of his persona that had fucked up his entire prior life…

Spencer wouldn't like that person. He would be scared of him. He wouldn't understand that there was a difference between how Seth thought of the world and how he thought of him, that it didn't mean anything if he hurt or killed anyone…not for Spencer.

No.

This was his second chance. He knew he sure as hell didn't deserve one, but here it was and he wasn't about to let it slip through his fingers.

He knew he needed to stop thinking about Richie, needed to finally bury him in his mind as well as in real life. In a way he was almost anxious to. The part that ached for his little brother was overshadowed by the –shameful but honest- relief that the monster he'd turned into was gone, that it wouldn't be able to destroy either of them any further.

Yes, he was hurting. But what he'd told Spencer earlier was true. He'd done the right thing for once by killing Richie and he would do it again.

But Spencer didn't need to hear that story, just like he didn't need to hear so much else…he needed light, and soft pillows, and summer and books and music. To feel safe. To rest.

Yes, Seth was exhausted. But at least _he_ didn't crash on any available surface like the kid did these days. Spencer was so much worse off than him, so much more affected by this.

So Seth was watching over the both of them, determined to get them through.

The night was his time to relax, to unfold, when he could just sit there, in control of his own tiny micro cosmos, with the door locked, his gun close and Spencer sleeping peacefully against his side. When he didn't have to make a conscious effort to control his every thought and word and motion, when he could be close to Spencer without it causing even more uncomfortable tension and need for explanations.

It was hard being around Spencer practically all the time, the need to touch him and pull him close and let him know what exactly he was to him maddening –it was just easier to practice restraint while the kid slept.

He had almost lost it today, nerves worn thin by the continued pressure. The guilt of not properly mourning his brother along with the strain of feeling this strongly for someone who needed to remain clueless had just pushed him one step too far tonight. All he had been able to do was leave and cool down outside before he did something he would soon regret.

The thought scared him…for Spencer and for himself.

He didn't know how long he would be able to keep this up. Last time he had tried to restrain himself and failed miserably. And where had it gotten them? He looked down at the result of his actions, the pale face only now free of worry lines and tension…

God, he would make it all worse…he didn't how it could get worse but he knew he would. He wanted the best for them but he just wasn't strong enough. Not strong enough to stop the inevitable, not strong enough to let go, not strong enough to hold on in the right way.

"I'm really trying," he murmured, giving into the urge to press his face into Spencer's hair and breathe in, "but you're making it so goddamn hard."

xxx

Seth was already awake when Spencer stirred the next morning, lying still, unwilling to move away or up. He felt the young man move in his arms, regretfully noting the exact moment he came to awareness by the tensing of his muscles.

He swallowed down any unbidden emotion, steeling himself for another day as he waited for Spencer to move away from him as he always did in the mornings.

This time though he was surprised when instead, Spencer's hand found his arm, his long fingers curling around it almost hesitantly, like he wasn't sure what he was doing. There was something in the air between them, unspoken, unasked…

He opened his mouth to say something, felt Spencer do the same…

In the end, they both remained silent, both hoping the other would just get what they wanted to say. _I'm sorry. Thank you. Please stay. I need you. I can't explain it to you but please understand._

Seth didn't say anything, just hugged Spencer tighter, hoping it would make his point clear. He wasn't going anywhere.

Briefly, he wondered if Spencer wanted to say just how ridiculous this whole situation was, but hadn't, afraid to upset him.

He frowned. He didn't want that, to once again build their relationship on a power imbalance. But how was he supposed to achieve that? Spencer was dependant on him now, and he would never grasp how much more dependant Seth was on him until he knew the whole truth.

Cul-de-sac, that.

Before he could come up with anything to say though, Spencer tensed once again, his free hand twisting the bed sheet.

"I had a dream," he told him quietly, in a tone that made Seth's heart sink.

He said nothing, waiting.

Spencer's voice remained quiet, subdued, "I think it was because of the play…I dreamed about my mother, how she used to read to me when I was younger…I would sit on her bed and she would read me. Proust, Chaucer, Irving and Emerson. She said how proud she was of me, how much she loved me…"

His fingers twisted in the sheets, proof of his emotional state. Seth held his breath, already feeling the first traces of dread at what he feared Spencer would say next. He wanted his mother…he would want to leave…

"I know she probably won't remember…but I want to write to her, tell her I'm okay, that she needn't worry…."

It was all Seth could do to not show his relief physically.

"Yeah, 'course," he swallowed, fighting to keep his voice calm.

He could practically feel the tension fall off Spencer as well then. Like he had actually been worried he wouldn't be able to write his mother, like he thought Seth might forbid him, or get angry…

It occurred to him then that _this _could be a small step in showing Spencer he was in control still…it wasn't any real proof of course, but Spencer was relieved so quickly, so eagerly these days…

It didn't feel quite right, but he didn't say anything else, just going with it. If Spencer was content it was worth more than absolute truth. To him at least.

They didn't move for another while after that, for once both relaxed and enjoying the calm and fading tension between them. Seth reveled in feeling Spencer against him for as long as he could…only when he felt the kid getting restless she finally got up, found some paper and he let Spencer spend the morning writing.

Seth stepped outside briefly to get them something to eat, then watched TV on the bed while Spencer sat at the desk and scribbled down his lines. It seemed to be a slow process, like he didn't quite know what to write her.

"What are you writing her?" he finally asked when Spencer hadn't moved the pen in a couple of minutes.

Spencer looked over at him, shrugging, "…just what happened…and what I do remember. That I'm with you and that she doesn't need to worry about me. What I'm doing, what I'm reading-"

At the last word he broke off, suddenly seeming uncertain. Seth frowned slightly, knowing what the kid was worried about. Yesterday night had started with talking about that book.

"Are you telling her about Anthony and his hysteric girlfriend?" he asked deliberately relaxed, smirking when Spencer's eyebrow rose at that.

It took a second, but then a small, relieved smile appeared on the younger man's face also. Apparently he had gotten what Seth wanted to say, that he shouldn't worry about upsetting him by talking freely about something he liked.

"Not in those words, but yes," he smiled, "mostly about the other play over there though. She always liked that one better."

"Why?"

"The Scottish Play. One of Shakespeare's most popular. I think she liked how people meet justice in it. You know, every crime is punished accordingly; everybody gets what they deserve."

He trailed off, again looking slightly uncertain but Seth kept his expression deliberately neutrally interested. He wouldn't make the same mistake as yesterday again. "Sounds promising. Can't wait to listen to you dissect it."

In return he got another smile, this one a little wider.

"Just give me a minute. I'm almost done."

Seth just nodded, satisfied. It seemed at least regarding normal conversation he was getting slightly better. Maybe that was a start…

He let Spencer finish the letter, then gave him the address of the sanatorium Richie had been in all those years ago. Though he had never found out for sure about that part of their past –he was sure the old lady wasn't there anymore, if she ever had been.

She wouldn't receive these letters. If she did remember Spencer she would keep thinking her soon was dead, or busy travelling, or whatever they had told her about him by now. Nothing would change other than that Spencer would feel better.

Again, just how wrong could something be if it only prevented further pain on all accounts really?

While Spencer busied himself finding an envelope in the motel room's supplies, Seth focused on reading the other play he'd picked up, not eager to further think about his own actions.

He frowned when he realized this one seemed to be just as sinister and tragic as the first one. It didn't take him long to decide that he didn't want things to end like they had the day before –so he decided to maybe not start by talking about crime and punishment right away.

"So, the Scottish Play, huh?" he finally asked, mildly interested, "that doesn't really narrow it down, does it?"

Spencer sank down on the mattress beside him, resting his head against the headboard before starting to unpack his sandwich.

"It's actually called Macbeth."

When all he got in reply was silence, he looked at Seth incredulously.

"Oh, don't tell me you've never heard of the great theater tradition that one must never speak the name of the Scottish play."

His voice had taken on what could only be described as a very bad imitation of an English accent at the last part –it took Seth a long moment to realize the kid was making a joke.

He scoffed, unbothered by his lack of knowledge when it came to theatre –it was way too great to see Spencer this way, as careless as he'd ever been, not worried about saying the wrong thing anymore, even joking…

"Must've slipped past me," he chuckled.

He doubted he would ever become a fan of Shakespeare but Spencer seemed interested in it, and more importantly rather happy to be able to explain this to him, so Seth indulged him.

Sure enough, more trivia followed. "It's said to be bad luck if actors mention the name Macbeth before the play. There's a curse on it."

"That so?" Seth raised an eyebrow, "Maybe they should put that on the back of the book. Might be good advertising."

He smirked when Spencer pulled a face, like the thought was offensive somehow. He just couldn't help the reaction –this was just making him feeling _lighter_ somehow.

Spencer didn't seem to realize just how much of himself he was gaining back each day –at least Seth assumed that.

In all the time he'd known Spencer he had only ever known him frightened, or angry or reserved or despaired, never at ease in any way, never relaxed enough to really open up and show a characteristic of himself that wasn't necessarily linked to survival.

Seth couldn't begin to describe how much he liked seeing him like this, catching a glimpse of who Spencer might have been before he'd dragged him through hell and back. Of who he might be again. Seeing him open, and smiling and content in his presence…it made him even lovelier, even more desirable than he'd already been. It made Seth want him more, setting him on edge…but it also made him feel more grounded, more complete at the same time. It made him feel…happy.

It was odd. These battling emotions, one of which had never really felt since he'd been a little boy, one he never would have expected to feel again, especially not like this.

But there it was.

"So what's the story then?"

He settled back until he was comfortable, prepared to listen to as much Shakespeare trivia as necessary if only it meant that things would stay as they were right in that moment.

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**I hope you liked the Shakespeare thing. If you want, go to Youtube and type in "Don't mention MacBeth". Trust me. It has Dr. House and Mr. Bean^^**

**...**

**So what do you think? Is Seth being very evil or is what he's doing understandable? **

**I will try to move to the romantic part from now on, I think the trust part is done now... What do you think? Would it be wrong for them to get together while Spencer doesn't remember? And if not, how?**

**Thanks for reading :D**

**xoxo**


	20. Oh

_"Agent Rossi says you won't talk to him anymore."_

_Emily Prentiss looks at him out of big chocolate eyes, not looking much like an FBI agent at all. Spencer guesses that that is intentional but it doesn't affect him as much as it does with JJ or Garcia. She seems like a nice person, and she must be a good profiler if she's on the team, but he holds no emotional connection to her._

_"I couldn't stand to listen to him anymore," he shrugs. _

_He can't stand to listen to any of them, but Rossi and his insinuations are the worst. The way he talks about Seth, about what happened, twisting it all, uprooting the bad and shoving it in his face but also soiling the good in the process…_

_"Because it's not true?" Emily asks carefully, "Because he was wrong about what really happened?"_

_Spencer looks at her with an expression that he guesses is more exhausted and sad than anything else. He can't seem to find the energy to get angry today._

_ "You don't have to try and relate to me by pretending to understand," he says, making it clear he sees through her tactic, "I know nothing I say will make you think of him as less guilty."_

_He think he's sees the flicker of surprise in her eyes at his response but she catches herself quickly, "Why don't you try?" _

_Again Spencer shrugs. He doesn't know what she wants to hear. "You were there. You saw how it was between us."_

_To this day he can't make sense of their meeting in Mexico all those weeks ago. She showed up out of nowhere…he wants to think she was sent by the team but she couldn't have _known_ then, couldn't have been looking for them specifically - because she didn't do anything to _save_ him…Still, in a way meeting her was the beginning of the end. He remembers Seth's tense silence in her presence and her growing mistrust the longer she watched them together, her pointed questions about his situation that he never quite answered…but in the end she left them alone, left._

_Maybe that's why she looks sort of guilty now, because she thinks she could have done something to stop this from happening. _

_How silly._

_"What I saw was that something was wrong. You were very distressed, in very bad shape and you were scared of him. You didn't say so but I could see it in the way you looked at him and me, how you moved and spoke."_

_The way she describes it makes him think of how they used to lead interviews with victims of domestic violence. Victims._

_Spencer closes his eyes. He hates the comparison, not only because it's not true but also because he doesn't want to see himself as a victim of any sort. _

_He knows what she means though, how she has come to these conclusions. They met after he had already remembered, after-_

_"I wasn't scared of him. I was scared for you."_

_Emily frowns, "Isn't that the same thing?"_

_He shakes he head. "No. I knew he wouldn't hurt me."_

_Emily's brows knit in irritation over his behavior as she leans across the table, "Seth Gecko is a violent sociopath. He doesn't feel empathy; he doesn't have a moral code. It is obvious that he cares about nothing and no one but himself. I have no trouble believing he would have killed me had I found him out then. You're a profiler, you must know that. So how can you think you're excluded from that? Especially after…Reid, we have evidence which suggests that he-"_

_"Well, you're wrong," he cuts her off, glaring. _

_He doesn't want to hear any more theories about him being held captive, raped and abused. About how he could have only stayed out of fear of Seth. It's ironic in a way, because he so wishes it had been like that, because then he could just abdicate all responsibility. _

_But he can't because that's not what happened, not why he resents Seth…he didn't do that, not even after Spencer remembered…not really. It wasn't like that. _

_Yes, he knows what Seth did was wrong. He can't forgive him for lying, for manipulating him, for taking advantage of his amnesia to make him l-_

_-but he will not sit here and tell them that Seth used his compromised state to physically hurt him. He tells Emily as much._

_She sighs, exhausted by his stubbornness. She doesn't give up though._

_"So what did he do then?" _

With not much else to go by, Spencer began measuring time in certain intervals.

On day two after the incident, he had been more deeply distraught and lost and terrified than he ever would have thought possible, so much so that all he could think to do was put his life in the hands of a relative stranger and pray it wasn't another mistake.

During day three, he'd still felt like he was on a trip, nothing real except for his chaotic emotional responses to seemingly meaningless things and his terrifying flashbacks. He had been unable to function, to think clearly or formulate a plan, to care for himself. He had let Seth steer him like a doll, had gotten into the car without thinking, letting the man drive off to wherever.

Somewhere at the back of his mind there had always been this little voice telling him that was he was doing was dangerous and destructive, that he ought to protect himself, that this wasn't safe…

He simply hadn't been able to act on it. Anyone could have done anything to him during those days. But no one did. There was no further pain, or fear, or blood –not while he was awake anyway. Seth had kept him close, Seth had kept him safe, taking care of him through days of apathy and nights of screaming terror. He had gotten him through day four and five.

It hadn't been until the morning of day six that Spencer felt like he could actually breathe properly again, like he wasn't just a blink away from the next breakdown. Slowly, he'd rebuilt his mind, his defenses. Seth had been there for that too, trying to help as best as he could without pushing him, a silent support by his side.

By day Nr. 7, the fog had cleared enough, the shock had worn down enough that he had actively started trying to get a semblance of a daily routine, a life. The nightmares had still been there, the latent fear had still been there, the phobias, preventing him from going out among people…but he had started to feel close to okay. To feel comfortable in Seth's presence, to not only trust and rely on him but to actually appreciate his company.

And Seth had been there to readily distract him from his dark thoughts, to build him up again carefully…they had talked, he'd told him about his childhood, about what he knew about Spencer…they had talked about books, ideas…

It had started feeling…welcome. Seth's voice had become his fix point, his arms around him more than an embarrassing necessity at night, his presence and proximity sources of comfort and warmth and a feeling of safety, of belonging.

Somehow, despite everything, Seth had managed to make him forget everything he had been worried about in the beginning, to only see the good in him anymore, to make him feel like everything could be alright if only he trusted the man to fix it for him.

Looking back, he wasn't sure what had come first, certain memory fragments or certain emotions on his part, wasn't sure which had ignited which…

All he knew was that on day 10 he had realized something fundamental.

Maybe it had come to his awareness just then because of his growing confusion about Seth's expectation at their relationship… of what it meant that the man kept pulling him close only to pull away the next second….looked at him in a certain way…

All that had put him on edge more and more, making him insecure and nervous –because he'd felt pressured, afraid that he would lose the safety he had if he disappointed Seth. At least that was how it had started out. But with the days passing and Seth making it clear that he wouldn't push him, that clear line had started to blur.

Truth was, it had probably even started before that his heart would skip for a reason other than anxiety whenever Seth came close enough to touch him, or looked at him in a certain way, or closed his arms around him, breathing into his neck…

Probably.

Deep down he probably always been aware of his attraction to the man.

He just hadn't actively realized it -a little preoccupied with all the trauma and stress they'd had- until a very embarrassing and yet very eye-opening incident on said day.

It started with him waking up alone in bed, to the very acute sensation that his face and neck were wet.

Startled, he blinked awake, a hand coming up to his face to find it actually sticky with warm fluid. He'd opened his eyes to find the hand in front of his face red with blood.

With a gasp, he shot up in bed, heart missing a beat until he realized that he wasn't actually in pain and that the was no one else there.

He sighed.

A nose bleed. Darn dry heat.

Slight annoyance overtook him then, an emotion so mundane, so normal, that it would have made him smile at any other moment. As it was, all he could see was his ruined shirt –one of the two he owned- and the equally ruined bed sheets.

"Damn," he muttered under his breath, pressing two fingers over his nose and scrambling out of bed to hurry into the bathroom.

It wasn't until he was already standing _in_ the bathroom, steam filled and humid, that his brain caught on to the fact that Seth hadn't been in the bedroom with him, hence he had to be in here and- he was currently standing by the sink, wearing nothing but a towel around his hips and a startled expression on his face. He'd obviously just come out of the shower.

"Oh, I- sorry, sorry, I-" Spencer stammered, flushing in embarrassment.

He spun around, ready to hurry out of the room again when Seth caught his arm, pulling him back. Instead of annoyance over being interrupted, his face showed an expression of alarm as he stared down at Spencer, and consequently all the blood.

"What-?"

His eyes instantly darted over Spencer's shoulder to the door, his whole frame tensing. He had already started to pull Spencer away from the door when the young man finally found his words.

"No, it's just my nose…it's fine. Sorry, I wasn't thinking. I'll wait outs-…"

"Stop squirming," Seth had relaxed his stance at his words but didn't let go, instead leaning in to get a closer look at Spencer's face. His free hand came up as though to touch his cheek and Spencer instinctively pulled back, not wanting Seth to come in contact with the blood as well.

Something flashed across Seth's face at that, too quickly to decipher, but not too quickly for Spencer to suddenly get an odd feeling of déjà vu, one of the almost flashbacks he hadn't had in almost two days now.

_His nose bleeding, his face wet, Seth leaning over him with a worried expression, carefully touching him…_

It was gone before he could really get a grasp on it and before he could even think to ask, Seth suddenly moved away rather abruptly, an oddly strained expression on his features.

Before Spencer could get a good look at it though he was being turned around by the shoulder to face the sink. Seth turned on the water and then moved to look for a wash cloth, "Keep looking down until it stops bleeding."

Spencer did as instructed, still caught up in his inner confusion about what had just happened. It always happened so suddenly, just like this little scene had….he never seemed prepared for anything these days… One second he'd been fine, startled and embarrassed but okay, now for some reason something sour had mixed into that…like a bad after taste and he didn't know if it had come from himself or from Seth.

He blankly stared at the blood dripping into the sink, feeling his chest clench and his stomach turn as he tried futilely to figure himself out. Was it the memory, or the situation in general, or the blood that suddenly had him feeling this…ill?

He grasped the edge of the sink tightly, making distressed sound.

"Close your eyes," Seth's hand came to rest on his neck unasked but reassuring, then the cloth, wet and cold was pressed to his skin instead.

Again, Spencer listened automatically. He closed his eyes and let Seth's voice and touch calm him down. It helped after only a few short moments, focusing on something else, something safe and familiar, instead of the uncertainty and the sight of his own blood…

Was that why Seth had told him to shut his eyes? Because he was worried that the blood would trigger another flashback? He must have…maybe there had been something in the past, something bad, maybe Seth had remembered that earlier and now wanted to protect him from it…

That had to be it. The sudden feeling of gratefulness that overcame him at that was overwhelming. Seth always knew when something was wrong, he understood, he made it go away…

Spencer pressed his eyes closed, simply focusing on breathing and on Seth's hand as he waited, waited to calm down, for the bleeding to stop. Seth didn't let go until both had happened.

Eventually, Spencer moved, splashing water over his face to clean it, then straightened up and turned around. "Sorry," he breathed, then stopped short as they came face to face.

Seth's hand had remained against his neck, pressing the cloth to his skin still. He didn't move back which left them standing chest to chest, Spencer leaning against the sink and staring up at the older man, suddenly becoming acutely aware of _how_ close they were.

His eyes flickered over Seth's naked chest and upper arms –where else to look- and momentarily remained fixated on the prominent tattoo there that was almost right by his face with the way Seth was still holding on to him. He could see it move as the muscle under it flexed, could feel the motion against his skin…

Breathing calmly suddenly seemed harder for some reason as he stared at the beads of water trailing down from the older man's hair and over his neck…

Seth shifted in front of him, his fingers flexing around the nape of Spencer's neck to hold him still as his other hand came up to once again reach for his face, probably make sure he was alright…

Spencer looked up into Seth's face, expecting that same worried, prodding look as before, and his heart skipped a beat when instead he met stormy, black eyes, transfixed on his, intense and sharp.

He gazed back, his body seemingly having forgotten how to move, his pulse rushing in his ears. Getting nervous in Seth's presence wasn't new to him…but this… his heart fluttering in his chest, it wasn't a bad feeling. He stared at the man's rugged features, the stubbles of a beard on his neck and chin, his black eyes, his lips…

He could have sworn he could feel Seth moving closer, the strong fingers in his neck flexing to pull him in. His breath caught …but then Seth suddenly broke their eye contact, loosening his grip and stepping away.

"Keep it there," he said, voice sounding oddly hoarse and Spencer automatically reached up to keep the wet cloth in place.

Then, before he could even register what was happening, Seth had grabbed his clothes and was out of the room, leaving him dazed and confused in the bathroom.

By the end of day ten, Spencer had realized a very important thing.

Of all the things he was afraid of these days, Seth leaving him out of frustration over Spencer not feeling about him the way he should or had was the worst.

But just that, it seemed, wasn't the problem anymore.

Not at all.

xxx

They didn't talk about it.

They went on like nothing had even happened. Spencer couldn't see into Seth's head, couldn't begin to fathom just what the man had been thinking, how much there had actually been between them and how much he'd falsely interpreted into the situation.

So he said nothing, alone with his fear, with his confusion, his uncertainty.

He didn't know what to do but to ignore it all and push the decision further ahead.

He didn't last very long.

xxx

It was on day eleven, promptly after the bathroom incident, that he had a dream. Not the usual, bloody-gruesome-wake-up-screaming-kind of dream. No.

A dream like the flashback he'd had on that first morning in Carlos' shower. A dream that had him startle awake with a gasp, the tingling, heated sensation of hands on his skin still tangible. Spencer froze instantly, acutely aware of Seth sleeping beside him, unaware of what he had just done in Spencer's mind…

_…strong calloused hands sliding under his shirt, caressing his skin, exploring, teasing…hot breath against his ear, whispering…stubble against the side of his neck, making his hairs stand on edge…heat, white, blinding heat and pleasure as those hands gripped his hips tightly, angling them in just the right way…_

Spencer pressed a hand over his mouth so as to not make a sound, desperately trying to get control of his body. Oh god, oh god…

At this point he wasn't even sure if it had been a memory or just his imagination cooking up these images, triggered by his epiphany in the bathroom.

Whatever it was, he suddenly couldn't get out of the bed fast enough, unmindful not to wake Seth in his haste. The older man turned to look at him as he got to his feet, as always instantly awake, a question on his face.

"'fine," Spencer murmured, more heat rising to his cheeks, before hurrying into the bathroom, unable to stay under Seth's gaze much longer.

He shut the door behind him and stalked over to the sink, turning the water on cold, as cold as it would go. After splashing some into his face, he bent over the sink and let the cooling liquid run over the insides of his wrist.

Breathing in and out, in and out, trying to calm his mind, to not be overwhelmed by his turbulent thoughts.

He didn't come out of the bathroom for a long time.

* * *

**:D**

**Are we getting somewhere or are we getting somewhere?**

**Anyone confused about what's with Emily? I would hope so^^ Do you have any theories yet about how this will all go?**

**Please review for more awkward UST :P**


	21. Hey, I just met you and this is crazy

**_Hey, me again. Thanks to the people who reviewed! _**

**_Now before this starts, I just need to let you know that I am moving. Next week to be exact. To another continent to be very exact. California here I come :D (No I'm not going there just to stalk the CM actors...I'm also going to stalk any other remotely goodlooking actor. So yeah, bottom line. I will only have myself and a small suitcase, and probably no house and much less internet for a while. So updates could be a little sparse this month. _**

**_So sorry, but I promise I will get back to this if I survive the flight and the room hunting and once I get tired of the beach ;)_**

**_Cheers!_**

* * *

_. _

_"My name. Say it again." Seth grabbed him tighter, a thumb tracing the sharp bone of his hip and igniting a shiver. _

_Spencer's breaths had flattened out, tremors running through his thin body. He could feel all of the other man pressed together as they were now, the thought alone making him breathless as he was consumed by heat. _

_Warm lips brushed the skin over his collar bone lightly, teasingly; the whole length of Seth's body was pressing him into the wall, a leg between his, hip to hip, Seth's hand roaming up his side, his stomach, his arm…leaving a wake of tingling heat everywhere he touched. He was moving against him in perfect sync with his lips and Reid moaned at the friction, eyelids fluttering as he clutched at the man's suit desperately, pulling him in further. "Spencer…Spen-"_

"-cer. Spencer!"

With a jolt, Spencer snapped awake.

Light blinded him; he squinted, needing a moment to figure out he was in the car, more precisely on some empty parking lot next to a gas station apparently.

Seth was sitting next to him, fingers tapping on the steering wheel as he waited for him to come around.

Spencer felt heat rush to his cheeks looking at the older man and remembering what had just happened in his mind. Mortified from embarrassment, he looked away, hiding his face behind a curtain of hair. He couldn't be sure because Seth was wearing shades but he thought the man had looked at him with an eyebrow raised.

_Oh god, please don't let me have done or said anything…_

"You okay?"

There was nothing in Seth's tone that told him anything he wanted to know.

"Uh huh, fine," he nodded jerkily, pulling himself together, "Sorry, what was it?"

Seth shrugged, "Nuthin'. Just this is the last gas station for a while down this road. I'm gonna get some gas. You want anything else?"

Spencer shook his head.

He sat quietly as Seth got out of the car, grateful for the time to recover it gave him. Gosh, why did this keep happening? Dreams like that in the situation he was in…it was almost as mortifying as the usual nightmares…

Trying to distract himself he looked through the windshield.

Nothing about his surroundings seemed familiar, except in the very vague way of every Mexican gas station and every mile of dusty highway sort of looking the same. He had no idea where he was, or when for that matter. They had left the motel in the early morning hours, but he had no idea when or for how long he'd dozed off….he'd just been exhausted from being shaken away night after night, first by nightmares, now by _this_…he hardly got any sleep at all anymore it seemed…

He just hoped Seth hadn't noticed that something had changed. If he had he'd covered it up extremely well; other than that little incident in the bathroom he'd acted towards him just like always.

Spencer turned his head and watched as Seth put gas in the tank and then went into the gas station to pay.

He couldn't help but watch the man as he walked across the lot, take in the way he walked, confident and straight, with a slight edge to it, emphasized by the dark suit…it was just the right mix of effortlessly elegant and darkly sexy…especially if one knew of the muscles underneath that suit, or remembered the way those hands felt, strong and calloused….

Spencer pressed a hand to his face in frustration.

For two days now he had been battling with thoughts like these. It was like the universe had decided he didn't have enough problems already, now his mind and body had found yet another way to screw with him. He really didn't know what to do with himself.

Of all the memories that could have come back to him, apparently his muddled brain had decided that these, not his family, not his home, not his work, no, just these memories were the ones he needed right now.

He supposed it was because he was spending so much time with Seth that those memories had been activated… still he wasn't sure he was happy about having them back.

Overall, he was glad for everything that he got back of course…but knowing this, what had been, in detail…it was putting pressure on him. He was starting to feel more and more like he needed to do something about it. After all…from what he remembered, their relationship had been anything but platonic.

And if he was already feeling this…antsy, this….unbalanced…without remembering everything, he could only guess at how Seth must feel holding back for his sake.

He almost wanted to laugh at his thoughts. Only days ago this sort of inner debate would have never even crossed his mind. He might have been aware of Seth's attraction to him but he wouldn't ever have considered doing anything about it…too unsafe, too soon, too everything…

Maybe the difference now was that he didn't only feel pressured because he could tell what Seth was probably thinking…it was what _he_ was thinking as well. He was starting to feel like he _wanted _to do something about this. The things he was remembering….

Spencer pushed his hair out of his face with a groan, feeling heat creep up his neck as well now.

It all seemed so obvious, so simple. They had been together. He was pretty certain Seth wanted him still…and he wanted it too apparently.

But it wasn't simple.

He was just mortified of what would happen if he made a wrong move, in whichever direction. If he did he wouldn't be able to go back…

Seth came back to the car in that moment, interrupting his thoughts. He tossed him a bottle of water, then started the engine and turned on the AC. Very fleetingly Spencer felt relief that apparently he was misinterpreting his red face for something stemming from the heat. He stared at the water bottle in his hand, still not fully able to shake his prior train of thought. Things like this…taking care of him, worrying, asking how he was, the books, the comforting gestures at night, taking the time to listen….

He knew it was definitely not only a physical attraction to Seth he was feeling. It was everything, as messed up as it all was. He couldn't help but feel like-

Startled, Spencer shook his head. Oh god, he was crazy. Just crazy. He couldn't actually just have considered the possibility that he might be…

_Crazy, crazy, crazy, you don't even know who you are, how can you know what you want? _

Yes, those thoughts were definitely crazy. Not that he was surprised. Seth was the only person he had contact with…he'd saved him, made him _feel_ safe…the response he was having was probably just natural…well, apart from the physical…he supposed that was all him…_crap_…

He blushed, glancing at Seth through lowered lashes. Well, why did the guy have to be all rugged and chiseled and tan and- _argh! Doing it again!_

He looked away quickly. Luckily, Seth still didn't seem to notice.

"Where are we going?" he made himself ask after about five minutes, if only to remind himself of how lost he still was on every level.

Seth shrugged. "We'll know when we get there."

Spencer didn't reply. He just sat there quietly, wondering to himself just when it had somehow stopped bothering or upsetting him to not know specifics, or to get these kinds of answers. Probably around the time he had started trusting Seth.

Rationally he knew of course that it was beyond crazy to do what he was doing. To just let himself be steered like this, content as long as he could stay with Seth, completely dependent. But what was he supposed to change now?

Fact was, he did feel good with Seth. Safe and grounded and welcome. He didn't want to lose that. And he did trust Seth. He would know where to go; he had been doing fine for the past two weeks. Memory or no memory, he would be alright.

Spencer closed his eyes, focusing on the warm breeze through the window and the soft music from the radio and on generally feeling better than he had in days.

_No reason to freak yourself out. It's fine. The way it is now is fine, you don't have to rush into anything. Yes, you can't help thinking 'that' but it doesn't have to mean anything….you don't have to address it now…not ever if you don't want to… _

He wasn't sure how true that was. Yes, Seth wasn't pushing him but…

He shook his head, banishing those thoughts. He would think about that when/if it came to it, not now. And even if later on he decided he might want to….well, it wasn't like he didn't have the time to take it slow, now did he?

* * *

_"So let me get this straight, just so I understand. You're testifiying that neither you nor Hazel Martinez were sexually assaulted by either Gecko brother during your time as a hostage?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Both Martinez' statement and the Geckos' track record would suggest otherwise. In addition, we have a report from SSA Hotchner in which he stated to SSA Morgan that he'd had a conversation with Seth Gecko. Appaerently, Gecko said something to the contrary as well."_

_"What did he say?"_

_"Well, we don't have the specific word count but-"_

_"What is he saying now?"_

_"...Nothing. He said to ask you. To get your statement and bring it to him. He said he would sign that."_

_"I can see why you're frustrated."_

_"Dr. Reid. Must I remind you that you need to say the truth?"_

_"I have."_

_"So Seth Gecko never approached you in any way that might be construed as sexual, he didn't touch you, or kiss you or anything of the sort?"_

_He doesn't answer that. _

_He could point out that that question is not the same one he answered previously. He could point out that not claiming rape is not the same as claiming Seth never touched or kissed, or fucked him. He could point out that Hotch couldn't have known anything about that either way because it didn't happen while he was alive but much later; 13 days after his death to be exact. _

_He doesn't. _

_It doesn't belong to them. He won't let them have that to dissect and tear apart. He won't let them taint it. He won't let the knowledge rip a yet larger hole into his former family's heart. _

_"Seth Gecko never raped me," he says instead, without flinching, without wavering._

_He doesn't care that it messes with the perfect black and white picture they have painted in their heads._

_His world is in shambles. Why should they fare any better?_

_._

* * *

**I know this was short. I had to divide the chapter. Now, the next installment will be...lemme count: day 13 :)**

**I really hope I will get it up before the move because otherwise it might be a while. Cross your fingers!**

**And please review! Come on, it's only gonna take a minute. Tell me about what you want to see in the next chapters if you want. Anything. Thanks so much!**


	22. Game Changer

**_Hey there! I managed to finish another part before my move. Lucky you, I only had two more days! Like I said, from now on it'll be sparse. _**

**_I tried to incorporate some requests for more interaction and dialogue in here, I hope that worked out somehow. I actually kinda like this chapter, maybe because it's got some action. Tell me what you thought anyway?_**

* * *

_"I still recall the taste of your tears_  
_Echoing your voice just like the ringing in my ears_  
_My favorite dreams of you still wash ashore._  
_Scraping through my head 'till I don't want to sleep anymore. _

_I just want something I can never have. _

_In this place it seems like such a shame._  
_Though it all looks different now,_  
_I know it's still the same_  
_Everywhere I look you're all I see."_

_-NIN_

* * *

"-th…uh…pl…Seth!"

Again.

He was doing it again.

Seth clamped down on the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles turned white. Night had fallen and he was still driving down the deserted highway. They were hours away from the last gas station now and Spencer had long since fallen back into an uneasy sleep.

Very uneasy.

"-g-oh god, I…Se-"

Seth ground his teeth together, fighting to keep his focus on the street. Spencer's mumbles and sighs right next to him weren't making it exactly easy though. It wasn't the first time the kid was talking in his sleep; in fact, every time he did he ended up sharing the matter of his dreams with Seth vocally somehow. It was never easy to listen to the sobs, the crying, the obvious pain and terror breaking through - but he could stomach that.

_This_ though…it hadn't been the case during the first couple of days, but slowly, occasionally, the matter of Spencer's dreams was rather…ambiguous. Like now.

Seth honestly couldn't tell whether he was moaning in pain, fear or…desire right now. He groaned low in his throat. Just the idea that Spencer might be dreaming of…well, _them_…he didn't know how to feel about that to be honest…

Generally, he would have assumed any dream of that nature to be a nightmare for Spencer as well, which listening in to would have almost been worse than the other stuff…but…it didn't actually sound like much of a nightmare. He knew what those sounded like, knew that when his name fell in a certain tone, the kid was caught in the early days of the kidnapping…

But right now Spencer seemed less terrified than…

_Holy fucking hell, what are you doing, kid?_

It was driving him mad.

The fine line between this and the nightmares…never being quite sure about just how Spencer felt…not while he was sleeping and much less while he was awake.

In all honesty, he was beyond ecstatic already that Spencer seemed to have less and less desire to get away from him, that he was so readily relying on him for his safety and even enjoying his company maybe…his only problem was that the better the kid was getting, the less jumpy and broken and fragile he seemed, the harder it became for Seth to hold on to reason. To think like he wasn't truly completely obsessed, and depraved, and predatory…

_Fuck!_

He wanted Spencer to be okay. He really wanted nothing more. Well, nothing except for wanting Spencer to be okay and be _his_.

"Seth-"

Again. _Fuck_. How the hell was he supposed to keep a clear head if the kid kept doing this to him?

He forced himself to keep facing the road, to not look at the pale column of the young man's throat, exposed with his head fallen back against the window. Forced himself to keep driving instead of stopping the car and-

No. No. He had no idea what that dream was really about. Even if it was what he thought it was…it didn't mean a thing. Spencer had come undone in his arms in that underground bathroom, no doubt that it had felt good also, but even then it had been wrong. This, Spencer probably couldn't help. It wasn't a prompting or an invitation to take advantage yet again.

_But-_

Yes,_ but_, he couldn't help but keep thinking that Spencer was giving him the oddest signals even when awake these days, like he had this morning, or the day before in the bathroom…

_Plus, he _knows_. He must have pieced that much together from what you told him, even if he's misinterpreting the most important part. He knows you want him and he hasn't run. He's stayed. What does that say?_

He didn't know what it said. He just knew his self control was wearing thinner and thinner these days.

Right now he was just one more breathy murmur of his name away from throwing all caution to the wind and jumping the kid right here on the roadside. Ethics be damned, reason be damned…even if grabbing Spencer and pushing him down and kissing him senseless would almost definitely trigger memories in him that should best stay buried forever…

_God, no. No. He'll remember. And it'll be just like before…just still just be the criminal forcing himself onto a victim…whatever he think he wants now, he won't want it once he remembers who you truly are, how he truly feels about you. He'll hate you._

He thought of the way Spencer had smiled at him back at the motel when they had been reading_. No. _

"Get a grip, kid," he murmured under his breath, "Get a grip, cause I won't."

He was eternally grateful that Spencer had drifted off into a deeper sleep again by now, resting peacefully, quiet and clueless as to just how close to danger he constantly was.

xxx

They didn't come across another motel.

Seth didn't say anything about it, just kept on driving down the high way, prepared to go on for as long as necessary. If it were only him he would have just pulled over at some point during the night and taken a nap in the car – as it was, be it because of the memory of those fucking undead creatures lurking in the dark or just paranoia in general, he wasn't about to just fall asleep somewhere that wasn't secure.

No, he could sleep once he and the kid were behind a closed door. He could go without sleeping for a long time; he was used to it. He just smoked more and kept his eyes on the side of the road. It wasn't a bother.

Focusing on trying to find a place to stay was at least taking his mind off of dangerous topics.

Now that Spencer was awake again that was even more important.

He glanced at the young man on the passenger's side who had his legs drawn against his chest and was holding a book in his hands. If he had been reading before he wasn't anymore though; instead he was looking back at Seth and expression of worry on his face.

"We should stop somewhere," he said when he saw Seth's questioning expression.

Seth shrugged, "Nowhere to stop."

Spencer bit his lip, staring out at the desert road for a short moment. "Just pull over then. There's no traffic."

"It's fine," Seth shook his head, "I'll drive till we find something."

He was surprised when instead of just accepting the decision like usually Spencer sat up a little straighter, a certain urgency to his tone, "Seth, you need to sleep, too."

Again Seth shrugged, trying not to get carried away by the idea that Spencer was seemingly worried about him. He shouldn't read so much into little things, he knew, the kid probably just didn't want to crash if he fell asleep behind the wheel. But maybe…

"I'm good," he said resolutely. He was going to keep driving. They weren't spending the night outside. He didn't need to worry the kid by going into details about why.

Or did he?

"I could drive," Spencer wasn't letting up, "then you could take a nap-"

Seth huffed, "You don't remember your last name, kid. You expect me to trust that you remember how to drive a car?"

He regretted saying it immediately when he saw Spencer's expression, the way he closed up visibly.

Damn. Not only did he know how sore a spot not being able to remember was for the kid. More importantly, Spencer had barely shown any initiative since waking up without a memory and Seth had instinctually taken to just making decisions for him, just like he always had for Richie.

But he knew he couldn't do that, not with Spencer.

He didn't want it to be that way. He didn't want Spencer to feel like he had no say in how he lived or what they did.

He sighed, "I'm sure you know how to drive, kid. It just wouldn't be any help cause I won't be able to sleep in the car anyway."

Spencer eyed him silently and for a moment Seth was sure he had already screwed up and made him pull back into his shell again, destroying the first sapling of recovering self-determination with his thoughtlessness.

Eventually though, Spencer asked, "Why not?"

Seth sighed inaudibly, relieved to not have shut the kid up for good.

"Same reason you can't sleep at night," he explained, "I need a door to lock and four walls around me."

He wasn't sure what Spencer's expression reflected then, if it was realization, like he hadn't realized Seth was also affected by what had happened, or pity even for the same reason, or alarm. Maybe a mixture of all of those things.

"Do you think they- someone is still following us?" He definitely sounded worried at that, too close to scared for his liking.

"No," Seth was quick to say, "it's just force of habit. I spent most of my life with someone out for me. It's not an easy thing to shake."

It was quiet for a while then, Spencer staring out of the wind shield like he was mulling things over. When it took too long Seth realized he might just have screwed up after all.

"What?" he sighed, exhausted, "Just spit it out."

Spencer frowned, staring down at his legs, "I'm just…useless. I can't even be upset that you wouldn't trust me to keep us out of trouble. If something did happen…I don't know what I would do. I can't even-"

"Kid," Seth interrupted, "that's bull. I didn't mean it like that."

"It's true though," Spencer said sullenly, "I can't even protect myself. That's why you have to constantly watch out for the both of us, why you can't sleep…"

"Stop it, "Seth shook his head with conviction, "You're not a burden. I told you I want to do this. Take care of…things."

He wanted to say _take care of us,_ but even in his head that had sounded too…

Frustrated, he blinked slowly.

How the hell had they ended up here, with this sort of discussion? Over the past days Spencer had hardly said anything about their constellation –but it seemed he had thought about it a lot and come to some rather down putting conclusions.

"Yes," the young man murmured slowly, like he had at least believed that by now; still he was sounding utterly distressed somehow, "But I…I don't remember anything _and _I'm not doing anything even where I could help. I'm just useless."

Seth grimaced. He wasn't sure where this was coming from now. So far Spencer had seemed content with the way it was –but then, he could be glad and grateful and still feel bad about their arrangement, he supposed. It sounded just like him to feel bad for not contributing, for just tagging along and letting Seth decide and organize and even pay…

Seth sighed. He had no idea how to make him understand that that was ridiculous. He could have said that he was giving him everything he could ask for just by breathing the same air as him -but that seemed a little out of character for him even at this point.

Instead he decided to do what he did best. Let actions speak rather than words.

He pulled over and killed the engine, throwing open the car door, "Okay, get out of the car." He waved at Spencer expectantly when he just blinked, surprised. "Come on, out you get."

Standing outside he waited for Spencer to follow him and come to stand about two feet away from him with a confused if not nervous expression.

"What are we doing?" he asked, arms drawn around his skinny frame as he watched Seth, trying to figure him out.

Seth calmly took off his jacket and threw it onto the hood of the car, then made sure his gun was safely tucked into the back of his pants.

"You're right."

Spencer tensed at that, his face falling, but Seth didn't give him time to get to more wrong conclusions. "Don't get me wrong. I _want_ to do this, to make sure you're alright, to take care of you, and I will –but that doesn't me that you shouldn't know how to defend yourself. How to fight. So, I'll teach you."

He supposed it really couldn't hurt. Not that he would ever rely on Spencer being able to defend himself physically –he knew his turf too well for that, knew the kind of people he might come up against.

No. But who knew if he would always be there? And after that pitiful performance back at Carlos' place he was rather sure Spencer could need _some_ fighting skills. It would make them both feel better at the very least.

"Teach me?" Spencer repeated, utterly taken off guard now it seemed. This, he hadn't expected.

"Yeah," Seth nodded, matter of factly, "I'm not promising that it'll let me sleep in the car, but I guess it'll make us both breathe more easily."

Spencer didn't reply, looking unconvinced at best. For a long moment he just looked at Seth, in thought. He seemed unsure about Seth was trying to achieve with this but it was obvious the idea of being able to defend himself was intriguing to him.

Eventually, he nodded hesitantly. "Okay."

Seth smirked, satisfied. Then he out on his no nonsense expression, ready to be serious. "Okay. Now, first of all, I'm sure I don't have to tell you, that if there's a danger and you have the chance, you run."

At that, Spencer frowned, starting to look disappointed. He crossed his arms in front of him, "I thought you meant you would teach me how to fight, not just run away…but fight back…like you did back there at the house."

"We're not gonna start with that."

"Why not?" The disappointment was obvious in his features now, mixed with traces of resentment and self-consciousness, "Because I wouldn't be able to do it anyway? I already know how to run away."

He looked at Seth's bulky frame and then down at his own thin arms, immediately discouraged and down again. Maybe he had remembered how easily that guy back at the house had gotten control over him, or how easy it had been for Seth as well right after he'd woken up…

"No," Seth shook his head, before he had to hear more bull about the kid being useless. Of course he could teach Spencer to be lethal if he really wanted to even though the kid probably weighed no more than a 130 pounds soaking wet and had the upper body strength of a twelve year old. He wouldn't though; that wasn't what this was about.

"With enough practice you could. But you don't _want _to hurt anyone…and you don't have to. The most important thing is to be able to deflect danger. We'll start with that."

Spencer still looked unconvinced but there wasn't really anything to say again that so he didn't. Seth didn't let himself be deterred; the more he thought about this the more important doing it seemed to him.

"Okay," he started, "Let's say someone is attacking you, and you can't run, because he's already grabbed you. What do you do?"

Again he only got silence in return, this time obviously stemming from cluelessness.

"Thought so. Come here," he demanded, reaching out an arm to motion the other forward.

Spencer hesitated, suddenly looking unsure. His eyes flickered over Seth's frame, his hand, an expression flashing over his face that made Seth hesitate as well.

Damn. Was this really a good idea? He had barely gotten the kid to stop flinching around him and now he was going to grab him and push and floor him? Remind him of how he had been around Carlos? And that guy whose hand he'd broken?

The sudden, unwelcome thought occurred to him that as fragile as the kid was right now, that this sort of activity could possibly trigger his trauma, or worse, not only freak him out but make him remember similar scenes between the two of them. With what he was about to show the kid it wasn't unthinkable…

Just as he thought about blowing the whole thing off though, Spencer lifted his chin and squared his shoulders almost unnoticeably and stepped forward into his range decidedly. There was determination in his eyes, as well as hope. He really wanted this…maybe even enough to break out of his comfort zone. He was trying, pushing past his fears, trying to get over them…

In the end it was because of that that Seth didn't back out. This was risky, yes, but if it worked it would do so much for them both and their relationship, he knew.

He took a small step forward as well, reaching out to grab hold of the young man's wrist with one hand, his grip firm but carefully restrained. He felt Spencer tensing involuntarily, taking a shallow breath in apprehension.

"Relax," he said quietly, brushing a thumb over the inside of the kid's pale wrist, "I'm not going to hurt you. I'll just show you what to do."

Spencer looked up at him and he held his gaze for a second, calm and strong. Finally, Spencer nodded, determination and focus returning. So far so good.

Deciding to just go for it, Seth tightened his grip slightly, just enough so he knew Spencer wouldn't be able to get out of it.

"Try getting free."

And so Spencer did. Sure enough, no amount of pulling and twisting worked. Seth held on to the thin wrist in his grasp effortlessly, just waiting until Spencer realized he wasn't getting anywhere.

"Here's the mistake," he then said, "You can't rely on force. Here, pull your arm away at the point where my thumb is instead. That's where my grip will break the most easily."

Spencer obliged and after a few tries, did manage to get free. They tried it again until he had the hang of it.

"Good," Seth smiled, encouraged by the fact that there had yet to be any flashbacks.

Deliberately slowly, he reached out, putting his hands on both of the kid's shoulders. He watched for Spencer's reaction carefully but other than some tension in general everything seemed to be fine. All he got was two big hazel eyes watching him without blinking and slightly quicker breathing. He did his best to not think about that –or about the warm skin under his fingers –this was important. He would teach Spencer, the way he had taught his little brother years ago.

"Now, if I'm already holding you like this, your first instinct will be what?" Spencer lifted his hands and grabbed onto Seth's wrists as if to try and pry off his hands. Seth nodded, "Exactly. Always go with your first instinct, nothing else will come to you in an emergency. So your hands come up, but instead of just pulling from the outside, grab onto the inside of my wrists and yank them outwards."

Spencer nodded and tried.

"Quicker and with more force. Again. Good. After that you step back and out of my reach."

They repeated the exercise and Spencer succeeded rather well. The sullen, cautious expression on his face was slowly being replaced by enthusiasm and Seth stopped worrying. This was working.

"Okay, another thing," he put his hands back on the kid's shoulders, "Easier than trying to break my hold is to just go for soft targets. Eyes, nose, ears, trachea. Here," he took one of Spencer's hands and moved it till the young man's fingers touched the hollow right between his collar bones. "No protecting muscle, just skin. You hit any of these core areas."

xxx

Spencer nodded, gulping down his nervousness as he tried to listen to what Seth was saying.

He had no idea just how he'd maneuvered himself into this. His heart was beating wildly in his chest and he was sweating –not because he was worried Seth would accidentally or intentionally hurt him showing him the moves, he wished it were that, but no. Seth's hand was warm and heavy on his shoulder, holding him in position, the other wrapped around his smaller one, pressing his fingers to his neck. Spencer wished it wouldn't make his heart skip but it did. All of this sudden close contact was making him…nervous to say the least.

He must have tensed because Seth let go of his hand and looked at him inquiringly then. He quickly shrugged it off as best as he could, trying to get a grip on himself.

He had wanted this. To show that he could be useful, not just a burden. Somehow he still doubted that even if Seth did his best he would become a good fighter but he could at least try.

"More?" He nodded eagerly.

Seconds later he wished he hadn't.

"Okay, I'm going to show you what is called a choke hold. It's very common." Seth moved around him, a hand squeezing his shoulder reassuringly before an arm was wrapped around his shoulders from behind. Suddenly Seth was right there, against him, his breath right in his neck, his chest against his back and Spencer all but jumped, his heart missing yet another beat.

He tensed, suddenly terribly afraid that Seth might catch on to what was going on.

He clearly didn't though. "Too much?" he asked from behind, an edge of alarm in his voice, like he thought he was scaring him.

"No," he quickly shook his head.

He wasn't worried. Maybe he should have been, especially after the first few events between them, but somewhere between sleeping next to Seth and giving him full power of decision over his life Spencer had started to trust that Seth wouldn't hurt him.

A fact that Seth didn't seem to realize.

He wanted to tell him, thought he needed to know, but he was afraid of the sound of his own voice right now. "Show me," he said instead, quick and low.

For a moment nothing happened, then Seth pulled him closer still, tightening his hold. Spencer instinctually reached up to grab the man's arm.

Seth hummed in approval. "Right. Make sure you can breathe. Pull my arm away from your throat as far as possible and bring your chin to your chest. If you've managed that you can put your left leg behind mine…right…and then you strike out with your arm so your elbow hits my ribs and I fall backwards."

Spencer did, trying his best to follow the instructions. He brought his leg behind Seth's and then pushed instead of really hitting, trying to get free. Seth's body was as unmovable as a brick wall. "Not like that," he chided and Spencer was about to ask him what to do when his arm tightened further around his neck.

He wouldn't have know how to explain what happened then. Maybe instinct took over, maybe something else…his body reacted to the motion automatically, like it knew what to do. He sent a sharp jab backwards, kicking Seth's leg out from under him and then pushing before he even knew what he was doing.

Seth, who obviously hadn't been expecting that actually lost his footing and stumbled but didn't let go. Spencer yelped when he was yanked backwards as well, losing the ground under his feet.

Next thing he knew he was sprawled over Seth who was lying flat on the ground, their bodies pressed together chest to toe. Seth coughed, a hand pressed to his ribs as he tried to catch himself and Spencer could feel his muscles move under his clothes as close as they were. His breath hitched and he froze. So much for keeping a cool head…

"Right," Seth panted, seemingly oblivious, "…obviously try not to fall down as well…but that was surprisingly good."

Spencer flushed in embarrassment, hastily scrambling to get back to his feet. "Sorry," he prayed to God Seth wasn't noticing his reaction, "Sorry, are you okay?"

Seth actually laughed at that like the question was funny, easily getting back to his feet as well. "Yeah."

He couldn't have been sure but the thought he saw something in Seth's expression then, a hint of _something_….

_No, he can't have realized, it's not like he can hear my heart beat can he….oh, goodness_…

"Uh, maybe we should call it quits for now?" he asked, feeling rather desperate.

"Nah, I think we're on to something," Seth replied and if he had any idea what Spencer was thinking he was doing a damn good job of keeping his face and voice absolutely neutral now.

"Let's try one more thing and next time I'll show you how to shoot."

He didn't get the chance to protest before Seth was suddenly behind him again, a strong arm wrapping around his waist while the other went to the back of his head, tugging at his hair. Spencer gasped, jumping as his heart set off galloping once more. He tried to step forward and away, but Seth held him tightly against him, pulling at his hair, not tightly enough to hurt, but enough to bring his head back and hold it there.

"This one's important," Seth said by his ear, completely calm, "As long as I've got you like this you can't build up a counterattack cause every time I pull I break your focus. You get what I mean?"

Spencer gulped. He sure as hell did.

xxx

Seth knew he needed to stop what he was doing.

He had thought he could teach Spencer to fight, could be close to him without doing anything stupid or forgetting himself –he'd been wrong.

It wasn't entirely his fault though. Restraint wasn't exactly made easier by the realization that Spencer felt similar. At first he'd thought the flush, the jumpiness, the quick heart beat, the gasps were all due to tension or apprehension. But at the latest after Spencer had landed on top of him, staring at him with that same wide eyed expression as in the bathroom two days before, he'd known. It wasn't fear that he was seeing.

Not at all. Spencer _was_ attracted to him.

It had likely been a combination of both, the relief that fear was out of the game now, and the thrill of realizing _that _which had led his brain to shut off shortly after. How else was he supposed to explain what he was doing now? His fingers curled in the young man's hair and his eyes fluttered slightly as he breathed in…_so close_…

Spencer's breath hitched when warm breath hit his neck and for a moment he flashed back to that faraway incident in the phone booth…it had been similar, he'd lost control for the first time there…but he'd snapped out of it because Spencer had been out of his mind with fear. Now, it was completely different.

The young man was just standing there in his arms, not even trying to get away, but instead shivering deliciously at his touch…

It was too much. Before he knew it his reason waved him goodbye and he spun Spencer around, the fingers of one hand still tangled in his long hair, the others coming up to reach for his face. He caught a glimpse of widened hazel eyes, slightly parted lips...no worry, no protest...just surprise...how the hell was he supposed to stop himself?

* * *

**And then she wasn't seen again.**

**LOL. Don't hate me, I honestly didn't plan it this way. **

**Okay, please tell me what you thought? Not logical? Too quick? What do you think will/should happen now? How will they both act in the next chapter? If you give me something concrete I might incorporate it ;) Let me know and I'll promise I'll try to hurry!**

**Alrighty then, wish me luck, people. California here I come :D**


	23. Don't get your hopes up

**Hey guys :)**

**sorry not an update :( **

**This is just to let you know that I am alive and am beginning to somewhat settle into my new life here. It's very busy though, especially with school so I haven't had time to write anything of quality yet. Actually, to my shame I'm beginning to think I may have to change the latest chapter cause I seem to be stuck...I don't know...**

**Well anyway, long story short, I don't know yet when the next chapter will be there but I will try to hurry. **

**Funny anecdote in the meantime? Why not. **

**So it turns out that if you wanna get an idea of what Mexico could be like -as certain authors might given the setting of their stories - it's really almost enough to just go to SoCal. Seriously. The motel I was staying at for the first week was exactely like the one in the movie which -being alone and all- didn't really help calm my nerves and everybody around just spoke spanish. **

**Well that mighta been fun but it really wasn't the best neighborhood. My parents kept saying stuff like, 'Just blend in, don't draw attention to yourself.' Har, har -not. Try blending in as a white girl in a sundress in a neighboorhood that they could use to make gangstermovies...they do for all I know.**

**On a related note, Downtown L.A.: Also surprisingly...adventurous terrain. **

**It's not like in the movies, people. Or well, in this case it is. LOL**

**Okay, no more unrelated ramblings. If you'd like to write me, with notes, questions, ideas, complains or just to chat in general, please feel free. I'd be happy to hear from you :)**

**Have a good rest of the week :D**


	24. This is now

The moment that changed everything came -although it shouldn't have- as a shock to Spencer.

One second Seth was telling him about self defense while he was busy trying to keep his wildly inappropriate reactions at bay, the other man's proximity, the breath in his neck and the hand in his hair not particularly helpful, the next moment he felt himself being whirled around and backed against the side of the car, Seth's heavy body pressed against his, hands in his hair, on his face, black eyes suddenly right in front of his face, holding an intensity that made his breath stutter.

He gasped, his heart skipping a beat only to then start beating wildly. For the second time in minutes, they were so close that there barely was room for air between their bodies -and this time nothing about it was coincidental or practical.

This wasn't about self defense anymore.

It was obvious in Seth's eyes now, in his whole body language, his hold on him. What had only been a vague and fleeting notion so far was suddenly real and palpable, right there, impossible to evade or ignore. It was right there in Seth's eyes, his face, his hands, his breathing. What he was thinking, feeling, longing for….

_Spencer. Spencer. Spencer._

The voice from his flashbacks echoed in his head, the memory of hot breath in his ear making him shiver. _This is real_, his brain supplied uselessly over the rushing of blood in his ears. _This is happening, it's not a memory, it's not your assumption about him. Look at him. It's real._

It was. He didn't realize just how much Seth had held back so far until now -not until suddenly he wasn't and his control had crumbled and his hands were gripping him tightly, taking over control, and he could feel the strength opposing him, so much rawness, so much power and sheer, dark will that it should have frightened him.

Except it didn't.

All he saw was Seth. Seth who could have so easily been frightening to him in his whole being, his actions, his expression right now if it hadn't been for days and weeks of _seeing_ him, seeing who this man really was, what he was to him.

It didn't scare him, not Seth, not the vague notion he'd been so uncertain about in his head and which was suddenly about to manifest with Seth's face so close to his that their breath mingled. His heart was racing, yes, sweat starting to set on his brow, but none of it was remotely a stress response.

No panic now, no unpleasant memories at the contact...because it was Seth. All there was were the conflicting emotions he'd had all along, embarrassment, uncertainty, curiosity, excitement, _desire_, suddenly intensified so much that they drowned out all else, all rational thought.

He swallowed hard, heart beating wildly against his rib cage as he just stood there, completely overwhelmed, unmoving and wide-eyed as he stared up into those black eyes, waiting, expecting…almost welcoming the impending end of all this tension, and tiptoeing and not knowing, his own doubts momentarily drowned by the absolute certainty in Seth's eyes.

"Seth..."

He blinked, startled and confused when Seth suddenly pulled away, the fire in his expression broken by dawning shock and strain. For a moment before he went back to looking regretful, Seth looked _scared_, something Spencer had never seen, never expected... but that made him realize that this was much deeper than he'd been aware.

Seth moved back with a jerking motion, both of them staring at each other and in a brief moment of clarity Spencer suddenly wasn't confused at all, didn't need any more details to _know_.

Know all that he really needed to know.

How deeply Seth felt for him on a physical but also emotional level. How afraid he was of losing him. How certain he was that he would if he got too close…that he just had…

He watched as Seth's mouth opened, closed, like he was trying to come up with an explanation for what had just –not- happened, an excuse, an apology, a plea….all of it seeming so out of character, so off somehow…

He didn't wait for any of it to come out. Instead he stepped forward, catching Seth's hands to keep him from moving further back and _acted _for once.

The contact of lips on dry lips, of beginning stubble against his face was peculiar enough to register with him next to the sensation of butterflies in his chest and the pulse thrumming in his ears. The kiss was short, light -but it said everything that needed to be said. And it didn't feel wrong, or forced. It felt right. It finally let him focus on what he had already known he _wanted_ for a while and what Seth _should _know as well. That there was no reason to be scared.

He pulled back to find Seth staring at him, looking almost like he was in shock for a long moment before his expression turned strained again, pained, guilty…panicked almost.

"Don't-" Strong hands grabbed hold of his upper arms as though to push him back but ended up merely digging into his flesh almost desperately. Seth shook his head, his eyes blazing. "Don't. You don't know-"

"It's okay," Spencer said, trying to look as calm as he could manage given his own state.

He was sure now. More sure than he had been of anything since losing his memory. He didn't care what Seth's doubts were, what was holding him back. He didn't want him to hesitate anymore, or to hold back. He wanted to finally move forward, to take the plunge.

"Seth," he moved closer again, reaching up to touch the man's arm, "I want to-"

"You don't know what you want," Seth cut him off with unexpected harshness, shaking his head. His fingers flexed around Spencer's arms, like he was fighting to keep from moving. He shook his head again. "You don't know what you're doing-"

This time Spencer interrupted him, determined, "I know how I feel." His voice dropped. "About you."

Seth's eyes flashed and his jaw moved, his inner battle clearly visible as he swallowed hard. Longing. Desire. Hope.

Too quickly though, his face darkened again, only to stay stony, "You don't know me."

Spencer glared, couldn't help but to. It was so clear that Seth wanted this, that this was how it had been and was supposed to be, that it was what they both wanted…why couldn't he just-

"Yes, I do. I know everything that matters."

"No, you don't."

But he did. He knew how he felt, that it wasn't an illusion. That his heart beat faster just thinking about Seth, his face, his hands, his walk, the way he held him, or touched his face briefly, or got him the kind of coffee he liked or smirked at him reading Shakespeare.

Yes, he might not know everything. But Seth had kept him safe, and well and happy, he'd done everything to make sure he was alright, to protect him from harm, even from himself it seemed…it was so obvious that he would rather hurt himself than hurt Spencer at this point, that he would do anything….

What else did he need to know?

"It doesn't matter," with some effort he managed to grab a hold of one of Seth's hands and clutched it tightly in his own, looking at the man with all the conviction and emotion he could muster, "I trust you."

At that, something in Seth's expression just...broke.

Then, before he could do or say anything else, he was back to being pushed against the car, long fingers grabbing hold of his face with force this time, of his jaw, angling it up and then Seth was kissing him, really kissing him, the way he had in all those flashback and dreams and _god_…

Spencer gasped, heat rushing through him as he felt the taller man pressing against him, in his space, fingers tugging at his hair, pulling him closer just a little too roughly, lips moving against his, hot and insistent and desperate. His body reacted instinctively, pressing closer, seeking the contact, heat rushing through every fiber of him…

His eyes fluttered shut as Seth deepened the kiss, their breath mingling along with their body heat and he couldn't help the soft moan that escaped him at the friction between them. Seth groaned at the sound, somehow pressing even closer instead of letting up, kissing him like it was the oxygen he needed to breathe.

For a while then, everything stopped, everything melted into the tangled mass of breath and limbs and heat, his thoughts, his boundaries and self fading along with the last doubts and worries...

For a while he came as close to simple bliss as he thought he ever had.

It ended too soon, and only when actual oxygen became an issue.

Spencer stared up at Seth, panting slightly, feeling his cheeks flush at the other man's stare. He didn't move though, keeping his hand on the broad chest in front of him, the other entangled in the man's dark suit. He didn't want to move, didn't want Seth to move away. He wanted him to keep kissing him and touching him…to keep holding him close….he wanted him to stop looking at him with that totured expression like this was something aweful...

Seth opened his mouth, and Spencer could already feel him shift minimally, reluctantly moving away. He grabbed on more tightly out of isntinct, pulling him back.

"Don't," he was the one to shake his head this time, "I don't care what was yesterday or what happens tomorrow. This is now."

He didn't know from where he suddenly took the confidence, the strength to act, more so even act like this...all he knew was that if he didn't he wouldn't like what would happen, what Seth would do...knew that they would lose, one way or the other. And he wasn't ready to lose anything else. Especially not what he had just found.

He looked up at Seth pleadingly, knowing that no matter how tight his grip he wouldn't be able to hold that man if he didn't want to be held. He could see the lasting conflict in the other's eyes, the details of which he still didn't fully understand and didn't care to understand now. He just wanted Seth to see that it didn't matter. Not now.

"This is new. Yesterday is behind us."

He didn't care about the past.

How, if he didn't even remember it? All he had was now and the future. He moved closer into Seth's arms and breathed in relief when he allowed it, unmoving.

He thought it might be all he needed.

Seth stroked his thumb over his face, tracing the prominent cheek bone with a gentleness that contradicted his grip earlier. He was quiet for a long time, just staring at him, his expression everchanging, torn. At one point, he seemed to want to say something, and Spencer knew what it was, the _'I'm sorry'_ was written all over his features.

"Are you really?" he smiled, attempting to distract with humor. For a moment he thought he'd failed but then Seth's face became smooth, an odd sort of determination settling over his face as he traced Spencer's smile with his thumb.

"Not enough."

He bent his head, kissing the younger man again. This time it was slow and deep, not as rushed or frantic but just as passionate. Decided, not hesitant at all. Claiming. Claiming this, him, them.

Spencer melted against Seth with a sigh, eyes fluttering closed once more.

He didn't care what would happen in one week or one day or even one minute from now. Not when the moment was this perfect.

* * *

**I hope you liked this :)**

**Please review, okay? I promise I will hurry if you do :D**


	25. Two Sides of the Coin

_**Okay, so this was fun because I tried writing it so you couldn't tell whose point of view it's from. You also don't know when in the story it is so everything is still open people. Well, have fun guessing. Needless to say, the viewpoints can also switch, it doesn't just have to be one. What do you think is going on? What's gonna happen?** _

* * *

_This is it. _

_It's as perfect as anything he can think of, as perfect as anything ever could be. _

_Because _he_ is perfect. _

They_ are perfect, enclosed in their own little world, their tiny, fragile bubble of self-deception and hope that hold just enough room for the two of them and not even all of their story. Not that he minds that. He knows it's better that way. The past has sharp edges, sharp enough to bust their bubble. He doesn't want to leave so he doesn't remember. _

_He just is. They are in the moment, with each other, nowhere else. The sheets feel cool against his skin, a welcome contrast to the warm air coming in from the window. He can't remember ever feeling this good, this relaxed, this whole. What does it matter then that it's some small, mediocre hotel room in the desert they're in, or that they are essentially lost, no home and no history, no roots. _

_He doesn't care because the person next to him is all he needs. The bare body entangled with his is a reminder that he is alive, and he welcomes it like the air he needs to breathe, even if his skin almost feels raw from the contact, even if they are so close, pressed together so tightly that it becomes hard to breathe. _

_Maybe he doesn't need to breathe. He always though he did, but then, he's never been this close to anyone, and he never thought he would be, or would want to be either. He never thought he'd die if they were to leave him. _

_Soft touch of lips, of fleeting fingertips, running shivers up his spine. He lets his head fall back into the pillow, eyes drifting shut. "Yes…"_

"NO!"

He is wishing for a lot of things in that moment, there is just so much going so terribly wrong at once. But what he is really wishing for is for _him_ to finally stop. To just be quiet and not make it all even worse. The pain is bad enough to make him want to peel off his own skin just to get rid of the sensation, but it's not as bad as knowing that he's not the only one suffering through this. He wishes he could do something, _anything_. That, or pass out. Maybe they'll leave _him _alone once he isn't there to be hurt by them hurting _him_. Cause that's what they want in the end, isn't it? An eye for an eye. A loss for a betrayal.

A fist to his stomach, then he can feel cool metal pressing against his neck. Another cry of protest, then one of pain. He jerks, trying to shake off the arms holding him down, the darkness threatening to overcome him, but there is no use in either.

"You'll be sorry for what you did long before this is over."

The words sneered at him just leave him cold. They are taunts but they are the last thing that could affect him right now. He knows he'll never be sorry. Neither one of them is, as ridiculous as that is considering everything.

In the end, that's the whole problem, isn't it?

_"Don't get up." _

_A hand pulls him back onto the mattress resolutely, a warm body wraps around his, holding him in place under the covers. _

_He doesn't get up. _

_He's hungry but it can wait for a couple of hours. Especially if he's to be distracted. _

_The hand runs up his side, over his back and rests on his neck. He leans down for a slow kiss, forgetting all about his empty stomach but not about his hunger. They both laugh when he flips them around, straddling his lover. There can never be enough contact of skin of skin, of fingers touching and breaths mingling. It's like a gaping hole they need to fill, one they didn't even know existed before they started this. A darkness, a cold that will seize the first chance to return if their grip on each other slips only minutely._

_They end up just looking each other, even with their faces so close together that it should be impossible. Deep, deep eyes meet his, with the same fierceness and clarity that is still so inexplicable, so wondrous to him even after all this time, with a devotion that he never would have believed possible. It reminds him of how they ended up here, of how messed up their little story really is if you look too close. Of how close their cozy little cabin in the woods is to the abyss. 'Don't look into the abyss'… _

_He can't remember the rest of that saying but he is pretty sure he knows what the general message was when he looks into those eyes. They could swallow him whole and leave nothing. He could vanish in him today and wouldn't even mind, they both could. It's a mutual addiction. _

_"Are you never scared?" he asks against better knowledge. _

_All he gets in return is a smile to remind him how silly a question that is. What do they have to be scared of? What do they have to lose?_

_Nothing and everything. _

Another sharp blow. Or maybe a kick or stab. He can't tell anymore, can't even distinguish between one red flash of pain and the next.

"Took a pretty hard fall off your high horse, didn't you?"

That taunting voice again. Again, he doesn't bother with an answer. Yes, he fell. But then, what else was supposed to happen? He was so high, at the highest point. Where else was he supposed to go from there but down? It makes sense in a way.

Now though, that he is lying here on the hard, cold floor, he thinks that maybe, once you've been that high up, you can never fall. That maybe they can never take that from you no matter how hard they throw you down.

He tries to hold onto that thought, to not let it be chased away by the predominant presence of agony. The pain is making it hard to think, and it's all blurring, the burning, the pressure, the wetness on his hands and face, crimson streaked with tears.

Whose tears, whose blood? A short moment of clarity, of fear spiking up ….where is _he_?

He can't hear him anymore and doesn't know if he is glad for it or not. The absence of his voice is enough to psychically tear at his insides, to make him sick with panic and misery –but he thinks that maybe…maybe he should be relieved to know he is not suffering now. That it's almost over.

Maybe.

Darkness comes before he can decide. He thinks that he is sorry after all but it's too late to say so. It's too late for a lot of things.

_"I love you." _

_"Hm?" He turns around in bed to face him, still half asleep, barely there. Warm limbs wrap around his, pulling him close, and the breath in his neck feels like home. "What did you say?" _

_He doesn't answer. He doesn't know why. Not because he thinks he's making a mistake or because he isn't sure. No. _

_Maybe he thinks it's not the right time. _

_Maybe he should wait until he's more awake. Maybe tomorrow. _

_Tomorrow never comes._

"Where is he?!"

He lets them yell, lets them figure out for themselves that the question is pointless. They are alone now, no more knives and fists and taunts. No more pain-filled screams.

Just yelling.

He supposes it doesn't matter. There is no one in the building who will be disturbed by the noise anymore. He doesn't need to look any further or go into the other rooms to know that.

"Where is he?!"

Someone shakes him and it hurts. He coughs and tastes blood in his mouth, then he is let go and finds himself on the floor again.

To think that it would end like this. Of all the possible ways this certainly is the least just, the most screwed one.

Oh, the irony.

He laughs quietly to himself. He doesn't want to. He just does.

It doesn't take them long to find them. _Him._ They will talk about it for years, a story to tell their colleagues, maybe their wives in quiet nights after loud nightmares, but never their kids….

He just keeps staring at the ceiling, unblinking until his sight blurs. It's better than looking at the bloody floor, or the corpses around him.

He is in no hurry for them to figure out they were too late and come get him.

He is not going anywhere from here. Not really.

This is it.

* * *

**Fun? Told ya^^**

**So, question. Would you rather see more romantic stuff now or should I go into the action part of the story? Are the flashbacks getting to feel a bit redundant or are you still wanting more of them?**

**I'm really busy with college these days. I swear they are trying to kill me with the workload. So yeah, a little distraction is nice but you get why Im slower now. **

**Anyway: Talk to me people, I'm always happy to hear your thoughts :)**


	26. Question

_** So, quick question: **_

_**In your experience, how strictly is the site enforcing the new 'no M rated material policy' ?**_

_**Not that I write terribly explicit stuff anyway but I'd just like to know so the story does not get taken down or anything. **_

_**Someone please let me know by PM ( or if you want to put in in the comment section, please do so on the previous chapter so I can delete this later)**_

_**I can go on without writing THAT but I figure people have been kinda waiting for it so I don't want to deprive anyone. LOL. I guess I could skip it...**_

_**Anyway, thanks for letting me know^^**_


	27. Pretty When I Lie

_** Hello :)**_

_**Okay, so firstly thanks for your reviews and help on the Rating thing. Sorry to say I sorta chickened out cause I didn't wanna risk it. This is the result.**_

* * *

He was done.

He had concluded as much time and time again, and yet, with pesky guilt biting at his ankles, he had always somehow managed to pull himself back, to stop himself just before completely letting go of all reason and restraint.

This time, he knew he wouldn't be able to. He couldn't have managed to had he wanted to. And by God, he didn't.

It had been too long. Constantly craving and coveting, feeling need burning him up as he was forced into painful inaction. He had managed longer than he ever thought he would, plagued by mental images of Spencer's soft eyes filled with tears and pain, with fear and disgust, with images of his brother, and of weak, bloody hands pushing at his chest.

But now, with those same hands pulling him close, drawing him in, with those eyes filled with longing and warmth and _trust_, he was simply done. Done holding back. Done trying to be someone he knew he never truly would be anyway. For the first time in weeks, he dared being Seth again, that man who had once known he could get anything he wanted and who took before anyone could say otherwise.

Still entangled, they stumbled through the door and into the dark room. Seth dropped the car keys to the floor and kicked the door shut behind them, never once letting go of the slender man in his arms. Spencer's arms remained wrapped around his neck, and he didn't open his eyes to take in the change of scenery, utterly lost in their kiss.

They'd barely made it to the motel. The drive had been excruciating with Spencer fidgeting next to him in –what he hoped was- impatience, so much that Seth had almost pulled over again two times. But no. He hadn't wanted to let anything else happen on some god forlorn road in the middle of the desert. Their first kiss had been in a vampire infested ruin, their first time in a dirty bathroom, speckled with blood and guts.

This wouldn't be like that.

Of all the ways in which this was wrong, _that _would not be added to the list.

_Fuck, like it really matters to anyone but you….like it's going to matter to him once-_

Just as his train of thought was taking a bad turn, Spencer pressed closer against him, moving in a way that wiped his brain right clean. He groaned….hell, did the kid even know what he was doing to him? Probably not…other than making sure he didn't stop, Spencer had pretty much let him steer their actions so far, simply going with Seth's actions and pace. Well, considering the memory loss….who knew how much of anything he remembered?

That thought at the latest should have been a deterrent, but instead….the idea of somehow making this their first time together, Spencer's first time, and to be free to make it so much better than the last time, to somehow fix it all after all…it spurred him on even more, made him want this even more badly.

Seth lifted his hands to cup both sides of the kid's face and deepen their kiss, growing more and more fervent, never quite sure if he was still on the right side of assertive versus forceful but unable to stop himself anyway.

Luckily, Spencer didn't seem to mind, melting into the kiss readily. They stumbled backwards until their legs hit the bed and Seth barely managed to catch himself on his elbows before his whole weight could crush Spencer into the mattress. The kid yelped at having the breath knocked out of him momentarily, but then laughed into Seth's neck, arms wrapping around him again.

The sound was startling enough to distract Seth from his immediate need; it seemed to go through his whole body, reverberating. He had never heard anything close to a real laugh from the kid.

Laughter, warmth, trust…all things which he hadn't realized _how much_ he wanted, craved them… things he had never even dared to hope for. And yet, here they were.

"Spencer…" Words were trying to form on his tongue, but he couldn't get them out, his thoughts and emotions in utter chaos. Instead he pressed closer, as close as he could, as he dared without crushing the kid, breathing into his neck and reveling in their closeness.

This was just so surreal. He was almost expecting to wake up at any second. But he didn't. And Spencer didn't vanish, didn't fade, didn't turn into a distorted nightmarish version of himself. He remained warm and pliant underneath him, his slight body a perfect fit against Seth's.

_'I trust you._' That one sentence kept running through his head over and over, like a spell put on him. He knew he shouldn't put any value to it –after all, he didn't deserve that trust, he had earned it with lies and deceit.  
But something about the way Spencer had said it…like it didn't matter what else he was on top of being a thief and a wanted criminal...like he understood that while other people didn't matter to Seth, and might thus be in danger, that didn't apply to Spencer. That he was safe because he was _special_.

'_You are,_' he wanted to say, _'safe. You'll always be safe with me. How could I risk to lose you, this…you're the only one that matters.'_

He didn't because he knew it wasn't true. Spencer wasn't safe with him, at least not in any traditional sense of the word. And yet, he was. He just had no way of phrasing it.

At a loss for words, he pressed his lips to the young man's neck, kissing the sensitive skin right behind his ear and reveling in the shiver it ignited. His leg had long ended up between Spencer's, their hips aligned, no air between them. He moved, increasing the friction between them with practiced skill, slowly but definitely.

Spencer gasped, arching into him and tightening his arm around him. Seth moved against him again, lifting his head to see the kid's eyelids flutter and his head fall back. Encouraged, he picked up a steady rhythm, finding a motion that was perfect for the both of them. Spencer's mouth moved silently, forming unheard words and Seth bent down to kiss his own name from his lips. The kid pressed closer to him in response, wrapping on leg around his thigh.

Seth groaned, feeling heat run through him and make his nerve endings tingle. God, he had fanatsized about this, but to actually have it happen... He kissed Spencer again, harder, overwhelming desire urging him on. One of his hands cupped the young man's face again, angling it up for better access, while the other ran down his side, stopping at his waist to slide it under his shirt and caress the warm skin there. Spencer shivered deliciously in response, fingers finding their way into his short dark hair and pulling slightly.

Spencer shirt was open within seconds, laying bare a smooth chest. Seth could feel his fast heart beat as he ran a hand over the white skin there, rediscovering once known territory, properly this time. He kissed Spencer's neck again, then moved down over his collarbone while his hand grabbed hold of the young man's hip, his thumb tracing the sensitive skin there. Another shiver, and Spencer pressed up against him, sighing into his mouth. Their rhythm increased, becoming faster, less patient.

Seth could feel his blood running hot through his veins, tension building with delicious urgency. He needed…

His hand slid down, searching blindly for the button on Spencer's jeans, eager to get it off…

He felt Spencer's sharp intake of breath at the same time that he felt the tensing of his body against him.

Distractedly, he blinking and looked up to find Spencer's eyes locked on his, wide and slightly glazed, but also…nervous? Or…?

The sudden mental image of Spencer lying on another bed, staring up at Seth fearfully as he snapped handcuffs around his wrist hit him hard, spreading cold in his chest.

He froze in mid-motion, fighting down the memory of their last time, with Spencer crying and shaking in his arms, eyes glazed and face pulled into a grimace of agony.

_No…_

But there were no hands pushing at him still, and no tears, no agony or terror.

It took him a second to realize that Spencer wasn't looking at him the way he had then…

Of course not, he didn't remember that. He looked uncertain, maybe even scared, yes, but…._of course he does, you're going way too fast, you're pushing him, he doesn't remember ever doing this, he has no idea what to expect….all he knows you're good at is slamming people into walls and breaking hands…_

_Well, should have expected that at least…_

Of course. As certain and courageous as Spencer had seemed when he'd told him he trusted him, that didn't mean he wouldn't still feel nervous about this at the very least. Even without knowing how much reason he _really_ had to. How could he not even fleetingly doubt his decision? Even if he wanted this- and even here Seth wasn't sure about the kid's true motivation, too afraid of finding the wrong answer to ask. He knew what he wanted Spencer to feel for him, wanted this to be happening out of that emotion. But he knew it was more likely mere attraction combined with some weird form of Stockholm-syndrome-dependency-thing still.

But even if Spencer wanted this to happen for whatever reason: He surely couldn't have completely blocked out that this was Seth-_criminalviolenttechnicallyas tranger_- who was hovering over him. Especially now, with their very position making the imbalance in power between them, the risk, much more palpable. Knowing what he was capable of doing… it was probably enough to get scared even without remembering what he had done. And yet, Spencer wasn't even actively doing anything to stop him now…probably because by now he was subconsciously too afraid of doing anything to lose him…because Seth had made him that way….

Seth hesitated, fighting with himself. _Look what you've already done to him. Stop this. You can still stop…are you really going to do this to him again? And don't tell yourself it won't hurt him, you know it will…maybe not physically but if he ever remembers…_

_Stop._

_'Tell me to stop.'_ He'd said that last time, not even sure he meant it. Now though, he couldn't even get it past his lips. He couldn't say anything that would make this end, that would allow Spencer to pull away. And he couldn't tell him anything true that would make the kid feel reassured. What would he say? _It's okay because I love you?_ No, because that wasn't the whole truth. But add, '_Because I love you I kidnapped you twice and dragged you through hell and because I love you I am lying to you and manipulating you into being with me? Because I love you I would do anything to keep you with me'_?

No. If Spencer knew how Seth really felt about him, the extent of his obsession, it would probably just scare him even more.

So he couldn't say anything true.

So he lied.

Using as much restraint as possible, he slowly brought a hand up to cup Spencer's face again, stroking his cheek. "It's okay," he promised, kissing his temple, then his hair, "I've got you. You trust me, right?"

He kissed his lips, soothingly caressed his side until he felt Spencer relax against him. The young man swallowed nervously, but then nodded. Agreeing, giving consent. Putting his trust in him like he'd said he would.

Not that it mattered. Not that Seth didn't know he was still taking something that wasn't his to take. Always the thief.

He didn't care. Not enough.

He kissed Spencer, deeper this time, and let his hand slide down to his pants again.

This time, Spencer didn't stop him.

xxx  
_  
"I didn't want to hurt you, baby _

_But you're pretty when you're mine_

_And I can't tell where your lust ends  
And where your love begins_

_If you knew how much I loved you  
You would run away_

_I didn't want to hurt you, baby_

_But I'm pretty when I lie."_

_xxx_

* * *

**Okay, so this is as close to s-e-x as I could get without being afraid to do too much. I know that was a lot of words for not much happening. Sorry about that. I'm going to get an account somewhere else and maybe rewrite this if enough people want it. I'll keep you posted^^**

**So yeah, just assume that they are taking their relationship to the next level. I wanna get to the drama soon so I wanted to get them there now. Evil, I know.**

**Okay, so let me know your thoughts please ****J**

_******Lyrics by Vast, Pretty When You Cry. Yes, they are out of order. It's to make them fit better. And because they are a little less disturbing this way.**_


	28. Schiff

**Hey there :) Managed something short. Hope this isn't becoming obnoxious. I'm trying to fit in as much romancy stuff as possible -but next chapter the Reservoir Dogs plot will begin, which comes with new UnSubs, Reid's memory being refreshed, Emily, Morgan, etc, etc. Pretty excited myself^^ **

**This here is Seth "afterwards" because I realized there hasn't been much of that. I feel so bad for the man by now. lol Ain't love grand? Good thing I'm dead inside, haha.**

* * *

**x**

_**Wir haben keinen günstigen Wind.  
Indem wir die Richtung verlieren,  
Wissen wir doch, wo wir sind.  
Aber wir frieren.**_

Und die darüber erhaben sind,  
Die sollten nicht allzuviel lachen.  
Denn sie werden nicht lachen,  
Wenn sie blind Eines Morgens erwachen.

Das Schiff, auf dem ich heute bin,  
Treibt jetzt in die uferlose,In die offene See. -  
Fragt ihr: „Wohin?"  
Ich bin nur ein Matrose.

_**x**_

_Seth looks up at the sound of the door opening, directing an automatic glare at whoever is about to step through. _

_It's the woman. Fucking great. _

_"Are you ready to talk now, Seth?" She sits down across from him, placing her bullshit file on the table between them._

_"Always," he sneers, "Wanna talk about how little mommy and daddy cared and how you're trying to please them by playing cops?" _

_She frowns only minimally, used to his tone by now. "You've made it clear that you don't want to talk about what happened before you escaped the bar. What about after though? There's a long time in between where you fell off the map. What were you doing, Seth?_

_He knows the question sounds pointless only because it is. What she really wants to know is why, and who, and when. The heist, the kidnappings, the murders. She's just looking for a new way in. Stupid cow._

_"Why, sightseeing. Taking some time off by the sea, you know? Nowhere better to relax than on a boat." _

_He grins. She frowns. Same old. _

_"Is that so? And how relaxing was that considering you had a hostage to contain?" _

_Seth's face darkens, as always when she starts talking about Spencer. He knows she just wants a reaction out of him –but it's so hard not to give her one sometimes. He looks away, keeping himself from doing or saying something he'll regret the only way he knows how: he goes to a different time and place. _

"Where did you get this?"

Seth, who had been dozing, blinked and turned his head so that it rested on the arm he had stretched out over the pillow. The room was dim and warm enough so that he had pushed the linen sheets down to his waist.

Mexico was still hotter than hell even with the winter coming.

At least now there was the ocean breeze.

It had been three days since they'd arrived at the coast and Seth had "found" a boat just for the two of them. So far, it was turning out to be one of his better ideas.

Spencer was lying next to him on his stomach, eyeing him from under sleep tousled copper curls. His fingers lightly traced the tattoo on Seth's bare arm, the touch leaving his skin tingling. Even now, with their relationship having been a physical one for weeks, it wasn't often that the young man initiated contact, and for a moment Seth was lost in the sight of the ivory colored digits on his tanned biceps. He almost didn't answer.

"Prison."

He watched Spencer carefully for any changes in his expression. The fingers on his arm stopped moving minutely, and for a moment Spencer's gaze shifted and the set of his shoulders changed minimally. There was something in his eyes, maybe, but it was gone quickly and he didn't say anything, just nodding slowly.

For a moment, Seth couldn't help but be reminded of how surreal it was, the FBI agent in his bed accepting his past without blinking. He pushed the thought aside quickly. That wasn't who they were anymore. Spencer knew that he didn't have to be afraid of Seth or his past.

He reached out to gently brush a calloused thumb over a high cheek bone, still relieved when there's wasn't the tiniest flinch. Spencer didn't move as Seth weaved a hand through his long hair, carefully separating the strands between his fingers.

"Do you want me to tell you about it?" he murmured.

"No," Spencer shook his head almost immediately, leaning into his touch with a soft sigh; his eyes fluttered closed again and his shoulders relaxed. "I just like the way it looks."

Of course he didn't want to know. Didn't want anything to burst their pretty little bubble. And Seth was perfectly content enabling his willful ignorance.

Spencer let Seth pull him close again, against his chest, resting his head on the man's shoulder. "Go back to sleep," he murmured, "or you'll miss tomorrow."

He felt Spencer's smile against his skin, "What's tomorrow?"

"Another today."

"Sounds perfect."

_"Seth." _

_The female agent's voice breaks through his concentration again and he snarls at her, annoyed. _

_"You know I'm not supposed to offer this to you, but maybe, if you agree to cooperate fully with the Bureau, maybe you could see Spencer. Seeing as he refuses to come to your trial and certainly will not visit you in prison it might be the last chance to see him, to talk to him-"_

_"What have I got to tell him that he doesn't already know?" _

_She can't bait him, not even with this. _

_It's not only that he is sure Spencer does not want to see him, and that that is for the best. _

_He's already said everything he wanted to say, he made his goodbyes when he thought he was going to die. Now all that's left to do is preserve the last perfect image he has of Spencer in his head, and focus on it, replay it over and over, until it wipes out the reality, the actual last memory of him, bloody, crying, and broken. _

_If he starts now, maybe he'll manage before one of them dies. _

_He closes his eyes and recalls the ocean breeze, the smell of salt, and cheap soap, and Spencer's hair. _

He next woke up to the sound of rain over his head, a chillier morning breeze coming in the open door raising goose bumps on his bare chest.

It took about two seconds of drowsiness for him to realize he was alone in the bed. He sat up, hand on the sheets next to him, feeling the warmth they still held. For a short moment he listened to the silence, old instincts keeping him from not immediately feeling on edge, nervous…

Swiftly, he got out of bed and picked his pants off the floor, resisting the urge to grab his gun.

It was safe here, alone out on the sea.

No one could come here uninvited.

No one could leave either….

Nothing to worry about.

He stepped out from under deck, finding that the sky had opened its gates and it was raining steadily, the sound of raindrops hitting the sea steady and all surrounding. Spencer was standing by the railing, also shirtless, his face turned towards the sky, his eyes closed and an expression of rapture on his face.

Seth wasn't sure for how long he just stood and stared, enthralled by the sight, torn between following the steady flow of water down ivory skin and staring at that angelic face. Eventually though he moved, walking up to stand behind the young man and carefully warp his arms around a small waist.

Spencer must have heard him, or he was simply too deep in his state of meditation to startle, because he merely smiled and let his head fall back onto Seth's shoulder. Seth pulled him closer when he felt the young man relax into him, pressing his mouth to a wet head of hair in resemblance of a kiss.

"It's raining, Spencer," he smiled.

The young man nodded, mirroring his expression. He still had his eyes closed, his expression so relaxed it was almost joyous. "It feels nice."

It did. After the oppressive heat of the last week the warm rain felt welcome and soft on his skin as well…washing away everything dirty and hurtful and dark, like a cleansing, a rebirth. He wondered of that was just him or if that was what Spencer was thinking as well.

"What are you thinking?"

Spencer turned his head, opening his eyes for the first time, hazel orbs gleaming at Seth from behind wet lashes. He looked both incredibly young and rich in years right then, and so beautiful that it almost took Seth's breath away.

"That I'm incredibly happy," he smiled almost shyly, then moved to hide his face in the crook of Seth's neck, breathing in his scent. "Is that an insane thing to say?"

"Incredibly," he didn't know why he was smiling as well, despite knowing the true gravity of his words –maybe for the same reason that all Spencer gave in response to his answer was a chuckle.

Seth pulled him in more tightly, feeling his chest swell with emotion as he stared out into the open sea. There was nothing there but water for miles and miles, no other living being. It almost felt like they were outside of time and space, safe from reality. Nothing could hurt them here, destroy them. They could finally both breathe, and sleep, and smile.

_Incredibly happy_ sounded about right.

_"You wanna know what happened?" he asks, "Simple. I fucked up. I had everything. It was perfect. And then I moved. I let reality catch up."_

_And catch up it did. _

_He remembers it like it was yesterday. Three weeks, four days and 11 hours after the morning on the boat that he was stupid enough to leave again. _

_It caught up when Joe Cabot found out he didn't bite the dust after all and decided to pay him a visit. _

_It was on that day that it all went to hell. _

* * *

**_Poem by Ringelnatz. Let me know if you want the translation. I'll get to it, I'm just tired now. Happy Halloween everybody! Breakign out the cat ears! LOL_**

**_Please review if you're still reading this! Thanx :-*_**


	29. Good morning, Midnight

**Yay me, more words! And plot! Look at that! **

**Thanks to those who do review! To the rest: think about it okay? I know this tends to be sorta long and eventless in between but I'd like to know I'm not just sendign words out into the ether. Thank you.**

* * *

He found them in a little village near the Mexican coast.

They had left the boat a little over two weeks prior.

Spencer hadn't wanted to. He'd loved it there, with the wind and the smell of salt water, and the cries of seagulls the only sound surrounding them. Seth knew he'd felt safe there, instinctively, just like he had –no one had known where they were, no one would have been able to reach them. It had just been the two of them.

Seth liked to think that Spencer was also regretful of leaving because it meant that it was not just the two of them anymore, but that the rest of the world was around them again. Spencer didn't like the world much these days. He'd adjusted surprisingly well in a very short time, but he still got nervous and shaky around large groups of people, or loud noises, or…lots of things really that Seth wouldn't have taken for triggers until Spencer suddenly reacted badly. He tried to help avoid them, but it wasn't always easy. They had to sleep somewhere, they had to buy groceries and eat, they had to get directions. They couldn't hide forever.

They should have at least tried.

He hadn't bothered to remember the name written on the little sign as they came into town, just another insignificant dot on the map that they would pass and move on –he also didn't remember the name of the man they met in the local bar that night. He remembered his face though.

In retrospect, Seth was sure he must have been on their trial for a while. It was simply too much of a coincidence for him to show up the second they were around people for an extended amount of time again.

Seth froze when he saw him, shock going through him, his shot glass suspended in mid air. He stared over Spencer's shoulder, watched him standing by the bar and stare back, no doubt that he'd seen him as well.

Spencer was oblivious, in the middle of pulling a face at downing his second shot of whiskey. He was still not much of a drinker –that day had just been exhausting enough for him to want to take the edge off. He'd immediately agreed when Seth had suggested the small bar, a little on the dark side, but less crowded than the bigger one across the street.

Seth set his own glass down, immediately in working mode. He could feel his gun against his back, knife in his boot. He assessed the people around and their positions. Just him. No one else was even paying attention. It didn't help much with the dread that he was feeling. That man…he was one of Joe's. They'd worked together on some job years ago. He knew who he was.

Fuck. _Fuck, fuck, fuck._

No one could know. Everyone thought he was dead.

This man, he could ruin everything. If word got out…the police would be the least of his problems. If Joe Cabot found out he was still alive…

"Seth?" he blinked, snapped out of his thoughts by Spencer who was looking at him with his brows narrowed slightly in confusion. "Everything okay?"

Seth looked at him. _Spencer_. Looked into his hazel eyes and saw it all falling apart. If Joe found out about this he would come for him, he would want him to come back, wouldn't send no for an answer, would send more men out if he had to…

His eyes snapped back up to the bar, panic shooting through him when he found an empty spot where the man had just been. _Fuck!_ He was on his feet without a second's hesitance.

"Stay here," he told Spencer, not taking the time to explain when the kid blinked, confused and immediately alarmed. He knew something was up. Seth never left him alone when they were outside. But there was no time…not even time to explain, or to get him back to the motel or the car.

"Wait here for me," he insisted, gaze urgent. Spencer couldn't be put in danger, but he also couldn't be part of this. He had to keep him away at all costs, but there was no time-

"Ten minutes."

He wouldn't need much more.

With no alternative, he gave Spencer another urgent look, then hurried towards the door and outside into the dark alley.

He saw him despite his eyes struggling to adjust to the lack of light; his back was turned to him a couple of feet into the alley and away from the street. He had a phone in his hand.

_No!_

Seth didn't think, simply acted out of instinct. Within seconds he was back in his old persona, a knife in hand. He charged and pounced, grabbing the man and slamming him into the nearby wall so hard that his head hit the stone and he cried out in pain. He struggled but Seth held him in place forcefully, grabbing a tighter hold and slamming him into the wall again until the man dropped the phone, dazed and disoriented.

Seth didn't take the time to look at the display before he stepped on it, breaking it in half. Only then did he take the time to get in the man's face, eyes lived as he snarled, "Who did you call?! Answer me, you piece of shit!"

"No one!" the man yelled, crying out in fear and then in pain when his head collided with the wall again.

"Don't lie to me!" Seth's hand shot up to wrap around the man's throat, squeezing threateningly. He pressed the knife to the man's chest at the same time, just above his heart. "Did you call _him_?! What did you tell him?!"

"No-thing, no-" the man rasped struggling to breathe. "I swear, I- call didn't go through- no one knows-" He coughed, greedily sucking in air when Seth's grip finally let up slightly, shoulders sagging in relief. "I swear man, no one knows-"

"I have no way of knowing that, do I now?"

Seth stared straight ahead, eyes cold and his face dark, nothing betraying his actual conflict. Inside, he was boiling, rage, and fear, and hatred, and helplessness, all whirling around chaotically.

He didn't.

It was too late.

If he had called then…but there hadn't been much time…maybe he really hadn't gotten a chance to tell anyone…

"I swear to you, man, no one knows, and I won't tell a soul!"

Seth stared at him for another second, eyes glazed, before finally returning to a state of calm determination, "You're right. You won't."

The man didn't even have time to get out a scream before Seth moved, lightening-quick, twisting the blade of the knife and ramming it into his chest to the hilt. He held fast as the body in his grip convulsed and blood splashed on his face, chest and hands, waited for the brief struggle with death to be over. He knew from experience it wouldn't be long, especially after he pulled out the knife, giving the arterial blood room to flow…

He stood and watched as the light left the man's eyes, then let him sink down next to his destroyed phone. Relief started to spread through him at having averted the danger to his very existence- until he heard a faint gasp from behind him.

Shocked, he whirled around, knife raised, ready to deal with possible witnesses as well, much too easily slipping back into old patterns, when-

_No._

Spencer.

* * *

**:D**

**Now how is that for plot? See why I wanted some romance, cause now it's back to drama ladies and gents. What do you think happens now? Is it just a shock or did Spencer remember? And did that call really not go through? Hehe...**

**Please review!**


	30. Seeing Seth

New chapter, thanks to new interest in the story. This is just all sorts of depressing and frustrating, jsut so you've been warned.

xxx

Something was wrong.

It was obvious from the sudden tight look on Seth's face, the set of his shoulders.

Spencer's body immediately reacted with a stress response, mirroring Seth's shift in mood without being able to help it. "What's wrong?" he asked, alarmed.

A minute ago they'd been fine, exhausted but relaxed, just having a drink in some random bar in some random city. He didn't know what day it was exactly –he rarely did now-but it had been a good one so far –not even the people around him had bothered him too much, or made him nervous the way it usually was. He'd been happy to just zone out for a while, drowsy and warm, safe in the knowledge that Seth was there with him, keeping an eye on him, that even if he were to drink too much he'd just wake up in their motel room the next morning without repercussions.

Now though, something had suddenly changed, shifted, without him noticing until it was too late. He watched Seth adjust his position almost mechanically, a hand sliding into his suit jacket where he kept his knife as he stared over his shoulder at the bar.

"Seth?"

Something about the older man's expression had all sorts of alarm bells ringing in his head. And it wasn't made better when Seth suddenly got up, telling him to stay put and wait for him. Spencer's heart clenched, then started beating uncomfortably fast as he stared after him on his way out of the bar.

What-?

He never did that, never just left him alone…especially not in crowed places, or places where they didn't know anyone else… Spencer felt anxiety rise within him. Something was definitely wrong. Danger.

It had to be…Seth's expression….it was the only thing that he could think of that would make Seth tell him to stay here instead of coming with him. But if there was danger…

He was out of his seat almost before he'd finished that thought. It didn't matter that he knew that Seth was very well capable of handling himself, that he wouldn't need help or even if he did Spencer wouldn't be the one able to give it. He had to follow him, make sure he'd be alright-

His feet weren't listening to his brain, carrying him out of the bar in a sprint. Outside he stopped, and stared into the empty and dark street. He bit his lip anxiously, looking around. Where was he…?

Before he had to make a random decision which direction to go in, there was a sound nearby. It came from a dark alley to his right. Spencer jumped, startled, feeling every fiber of his body rebel….against the dark, the risk of this, of being alone out here….these days, a shadow in the motel room could make him have a panic attack. It was the reason Seth never left him…never would have left unless it was something really bad.

His fear for Seth winning out over his own fear, he didn't walk back inside. He had to see where Seth was, if he was okay…the thought of him getting in trouble, getting hurt, it made Spencer sick to his stomach. He hurried towards the alley, rounded the corner –and felt his heart drop at the sight he was being presented with. Seth, pinning a stranger to the wall by his neck, with his back turned to him.

The strange man's face was a grimace of shock and pain as he grunted and flailed under Seth's grip…something glinted in the dark between their bodies, metal, silver in the moonlight before black liquid began to taint it…

Blood. Spencer felt shock go through him like a flash of ice. Stabbing…Seth was-

The man coughed, dark liquid also spilling from his lips; he was gasping for air, drowning, Spencer realized. In his blood.

He was frozen, frozen even as horror began slowly sinking in as he stared at the dying man, then at Seth, his- 'Seth', his face so hard and cold, his hand so brutally unrelenting as he squeezed the man's windpipe shut, keeping him from crying out while he slowly pulled the knife out of his chest –out of his heart- letting more blood spurt over both of them.

There wasn't the slightest trace of hesitation in Seth's movement or expression, just cold determination. Spencer stared, his brain unable to combine the image in front of him with the image he had of Seth, of soft eyes and warm hands…hands that held him at night, keeping him safe, and that were now stained with blood…

He must have made a sound, because suddenly Seth's head snapped up and he spun around, dropping the other man's body and bringing the bloody knife in front of him. For a second, his expression was feral, just deadly, devoid of anything human-

Spencer cringed, instinct making stumble back a step. Fear flashed inside of him, belatedly, finally, terror that hadn't been there seconds ago but that was suddenly all-enveloping, so raw, so sharp that it took his breath away. 'Blood, all that blood on his hands…dead eyes, hungry eyes…snarling, screaming, Seth-No…nononono-'

He could hear screaming in his head, so loud that it made him want to clamp his hands over his ears. But he couldn't move, still frozen in place as red slowly began to tint his vision. Through the haze, he saw Seth's expression morphing into utter shock and dismay.

"Spencer."

His voice shook Spencer up, sending another jolt through him. Seth. Seth. He wanted to call out for him, reach out…Seth…he needed him, needed him so save him from the rising tide of his own mind bombarding him with mental images and sounds….to save him from the panic threatening to consume him- But-

He stared at the dead man, at Seth, at the knife in his hand like it was just some movie…some unrealistic horror movie that had managed to scare him anyway…Seth had just killed someone in cold blood, right before his eyes…no. He wanted to scream. No, Seth, he needed Seth to save him…to be his safe place…

'Murderer!'

An image, dark and bright, flashed before his eyes, shaking him like a scream right next to his ear, making him flinch. Something, something terrible and dark surged in the back of his mind…rising from where it had been buried…

'Cold, emotionless eyes, a voice that made his blood freeze in fear-' Suddenly, it seemed like a multitude of sounds and impressions was raining down on him, hitting him all at once, blinding him, taking his breath away until he thought he would faint-

Terror, bone-deep and unshakable, crawled up on him, touching him with cold tendrils, wrapping around his chest, his throat-

"Spencer." Seth's voice was suddenly much closer, right in front of him.

His head snapped up and he met the older man's wide eyes, sure that everything he felt was reflected clearly in his expression.

"Seth-" A choked whimper escaped him. He wanted, needed, to collapse into Seth's arms, to seek his escape, but he couldn't move an inch towards the man, still frozen in spot. He stared at his bloodied collar, then the knife again, shaking his head desperately. He could feel tears burning in his eyes. No, nonono-

He barely registered it when Seth dropped the knife to the ground, hastily wiping his hands on his clothes, a panicked expression still on his face. It was only when the man's hands closed around the sides of his face, his neck, that he came to, flinching back at the sudden contact.

Seth's grip tightened, not letting him go, and Spencer felt a sob escape him, staring up at the man, pleading, desperate…this couldn't be happening….'-stop. Make it stop…God, please, I can't take it-'

"Seth-" He stared at his lover pleading, praying for him to say or do something to make this go away, to make it alright, to make this stop…but he knew there wasn't anything, not this time- The hands –bloodied- on his face kept stroking his cheeks, his hair, in attempt to soothe, all the while shaking and dirtied.

"Spencer….Spencer…fuck- it's okay, it's okay, baby- look at me, you're okay-"

Seth kept repeating his name, in a tone that he thought was probably heart wrenching…he heard it as though through cotton, drowned out by his racing heart pumping blood through his ears. It wasn't the shock of this alone he knew…he'd known Seth wasn't a good person…The way he was reacting, a full-blown panic attack, the flashbacks…this had

triggered….something- His vision was still filling with red where the black spots weren't. He couldn't stop it. 'The flash of a knife…blood all over his hands…black eyes that weren't Seth's….another man's eyes filled with terror and pain, staring at him as blood filled his vision… "Reid…tell…tell Hayley-'"

He gasped. The images had him swaying, his legs feeling like they might buckle underneath him. Seth's grip on him tightened, his impossibly strong hands moving to grab him under one arm and around the waist. Seth pulled him in more tightly, running his fingers through his hair. "It's okay…it's okay-"

His voice was fading, the cold, the world around him fading. He blinked, images tearing through the red, dark…a tunnel….tiles…a bathroom…water hitting his face, running down his cheeks like hot tears… there were arms holding him up, running over his shoulders. Someone yelling his name. He blinked again, catching the sight of reddened water vanishing in the drain beneath his feet. Blood, blood, blood. His blood. Their blood. Staining him, marking him. Their deaths on him-

He gasped, his head snapping up to find black eyes staring into his. Seth. Two images melted into one in front of his inner eye, the newfound memory combining with the real man in front of him. He looked at him, suddenly completely lucid, and saw, actually 'saw' Seth, for the first time in weeks.


	31. Ah, but beneath

So...it's been a while. I moved again. Back in good ole Europe now. And well, without Hollywood to distract me I found the time to write some more for this. No one seemed to miss the story much but then, I kinda did and I guess that has to be enough.

* * *

Seth's thoughts were racing. His whole evening had gone to shit so quickly he'd barely even had time to blink.

Half an hour ago hed been fine, more relaxed and content than he'd been in a long time. Now he had a dead man in a back alley he needed to get rid of and a possibly equally fatal phone call to deal with -two things alone that would have been enough for any man in his situation to lose it.

As it was though, he couldn't even really think about either because all his mind could focus on was Spencer.

The shock of realizing the young man had caught him red handed had quickly been replaced with dread at his reaction. It had been like a punch to the gut to see the dawning horror on the kid's face as he looked over him, the blood, the corpse.

Not that it should have been surprising -how else would someone react to seeing a murder? Especially committed by someone close to them. He'd always known that Spencer might think he understood and accepted his dark side but that he really didn't -that a big part of it was him fooling himself just so he wouldn't have to leave Seth.

He'd also known how much effort – effort to the point of active denial- that must have taken considering their circumstances, considering how Spencer was after what had happened to him and what he had then seen of Seth. He'd known that there would come another breakdown, that Spencer's defenses were already so cracked that it would take but the tiniest thoughtless tap to shatter them again.

This, obviously, was a massive fucking blow.

_'No!_' He felt sick at the sight of the expression on Spencer's face. No...

It had all been fine...they'd come so close to being alright-

But looking at Spencer now he could practically see it all falling apart.

He could see the shock, and worse fear, along with a pleading look he knew all too well; Spencer was torn between running to him like he always did when he got scared and running _from_ him.

No!

He moved before he could think his actions through, running up to Spencer and grabbing him, not sure if he meant to keep him from falling or running-

It was like a punch to the gut when Spencer flinched at his touch, pulling away, more fear flashing across his face.

Seth winced but didn't let go,...he couldn't...he barely got himself to adjust his grip, to retain some semblance of superficial calm.

"Fuck... Spencer, look at me..." he barely paid mind to what he was saying, internally terrified as he stroked his hair and face in an attempt to soothe, to prevent what he knew had already happened. "Hey," he forced the smile that he'd used to do so well in the past, that had once been charming and confident and that was strained at best now, "Everything's okay. I know it looks bad but I-"

He broke off when he realized Spencer wasn't reacting. Instead of struggling against his grip he just stood frozen now, just as frozen and absent as his gaze. His only movement was the shaking under Seth's hands, the shallow breaths...His face was chalk white and his eyes half still filled with terror, half glassy as though he was in trance or shock.

Seth cursed internally, about to try again to shake him out of it when he heard a single word that caused his heart to drop into his stomach.

"Hotch..."

xxx

It was all coming back to him, like a wave of ice cold water washing over him and filling his lungs, taking his breath away. Images were flashing before his eyes, memories of sensation making him shudder, and screams filling his ears.

Hotch...Aaron Hotchner...kneeling in front of him, his face ashen and his grip on Spencer's wrist like iron. There was blood on both of them, spilling from the wound of the knife that Spencer had just rammed into the man's heart...

'Tell Haley...and Jack-'

"No, Hotch, no, please-"

Right through the heart. He swayed. The image of Seth stabbing that stranger was overlapping with that of him doing the same, same pain, same sight of blood...the memory flash was so bright and clear, like lightening.

And it didn't stop there.

The grip Seth had on him, which he'd barely been able to feel through his shock until now, it suddenly felt all too acute...he gasped at the returning sensation of Hotch's desperate grip on his wrist...then the sensation of clawed hands around his neck, cutting of his air...terrifying, yellow eyes staring at him, coming closer until...until he suddenly felt the gun in his hands, cold and slick and heavy, and he was firing it and there was shrieking and then the eyes were gone but he was still shooting-

"Spencer!" Seth, only slightly more real than is sudden memories suddenly shook him hard enough to make his neck crack. Spencer blinked, finding the man's eyes wide and scared.

Their sight triggered another stream of images. Seth, face covered in dirt and blood, water streaming down his temples as he held him, looking scared just like now. _'Kid, are you hurt? Talk to me, Reid! Did they get you?' _

_Underground. The sound of water, of screams still echoing in his ears. He'd been crying, crying...pain in his chest that had almost ripped him apart. Dead, all of them dead...his fault...Seth's fault...his-_

"I killed..." his voice was breaking, he couldn't even tell Seth what was wrong. But Seth knew...knew anyway, didn't he? He'd been there...he hadn't told him...

"I killed...Hotch." The name, a name that Seth had mentioned long ago but that had meant nothing to him then, suddenly it came back, stringing along another set of impressions.

_Hotch._ His-

He had murdered his friend...more than that-

"No. No, kid, look at me! Focus, okay? Come back, don't think-"

But Spencer couldn't have listened to him had he wanted to.

He was a killer. Seth was a killer. They-

Was that what had happened the night he'd lost his memory?

With his thoughts racing as they were, he barely registered when there was sound outside of his head, a sound that neither of them had made, that didn't belong. Seth, however, spun around, an expression of alarm on his face as he looked towards the street, to where the bar's door was. His grip on Spencer tightened.

"We need to get out of here."

It wasn't a question.

Seth took over...like he always did...like he had in that fateful night? There was no time for second guessing, no wondering, no doubt. Before Spencer could do anything, Seth was already pulling him along, all but dragging him through the shades, away from the body, away from anyone who might follow them-

_'They were running, the hellish sounds of the creatures chasing them echoing off the damp stone walls. Panic was cutting off his oxygen, he could barely feel his legs as he stumbled after Seth. They were going to die...die like Richie had just died...torn apart...He knew it. Seth knew it, too. It was all over his face, all that pain and fright and regret...so much of it as he gazed down at him..._

_'You know what? I'm going to hell anyway.''_

_A kiss...their first...just as unexpected and inappropriate as every other aspect of their relationship...and then..._

_They weren't alone anymore. His friends were there. _

_Until they weren't. _

_It seemed like a dam had broken. Everything was coming back now, everything...Quantico, his family...the prison...seeing into those black eyes for the first time...the bank, Morgan MORGAN!Blood, blood, and more blood. Seth and Richie. Vampires. Then Elle...shot by Gideon...oh GIDEON...and Hotch...Hotch, dying because of him...pleading with him to pass on a message to his son and wife before he- _

_Dead, all dead because of him...his fault...he'd been sure he would never stop crying, that his heart would stop, his brain would explode from all the pain and guilt once he was all alone, how hed wished it could all just go away, that eh could forget..._

There was the sudden sound of a door slamming shut right next to his ear and it snapped him out of his thoughts. He blinked, not surprised to find tears blurring his vision. The alley was gone, he was in a hotel room -their hotel room- it was dark, the only light coming from the street, and they were alone. Seth was running in and out of the room, checking for something-

He stopped when Spencer made a sound, unable to hold in everything he was feeling any longer. Spencer stared at him, wide eyed, his heart racing. He felt sick, so sick...

"I remember," he whispered, choking on the words. Seth's expression twisted, his fists clenching by his sides. He seemed frozen on the spot for a second. Spencer wanted to say more, but he couldn't, physically couldn't...his brain was too occupied to control his body. He wanted to scream, to cry, to thrash, to hole up, torn between sudden bouts of pain and guilt and grief...but also fear...true terror...the memory of monsters...of vampires...

He could feel himself shaking uncontrollably; it was a mystery to him how he was still standing.

"Spencer..." Seth walked up to him, slowly, like he was approaching a frightened animal, a multitude of emotions still in his eyes and on his face that Spencer couldn't focus on through his tears. Cool hands touched his shoulder, then slowly, moved up to his neck...careful, a slight tremble in those fingers as they pulled him in...

The mere touch tore another sob out of Spencer...Seth's warmth, his solid presence, his hand in his hair, it was like a physical relief, like a lifeline, a speck of light in the darkness that was quickly pulling him under...for a mere second, he was more grateful than he had ever been to have the other man there to help him, to take on his fear...a mere second.

And then he blinked.

_Hard, cold eyes...much too close, a punishing grip on his hair, tearing. _

_'You do what I say when I say it. Because if you don't, if you try to run, or get help, or if you keep trying to play me with that reverse psychology shit, I will kill her. Do you understand?'_

_A hand wrapped around his throat, cutting off his air, a knife pressed to his cheek..._

_'...cut up your face...can die this second, I don't give a fuck...'_

He gasped. Eyes widening in horror as he stared into Seth's eyes, the last missing pieces finally falling into place, filling his minds and clashing with his new memories, his new life...

Seth. Seth-

"No..." He flinched, suddenly horrified by the feeling of Seth touching him. Seth who was everything to him, his life, his happiness, Seth whom he trusted with his life, whom he l-

Seth who had hurt him, hurt, him, hurt him...over and over in more ways than he would have thought humanly possible...who had destroyed him. Who had lied to him this whole time.

"No!"

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Not a lot of action, I know. Next time though :)

Please review if you're still with me!


	32. We need to talk

**Hey everybody :) Thanks for reviewing the last chapter! I'm glad people are still reading :))**

**Now on to the Drama...**

* * *

x

Spencer was shaking as he backed away from Seth, tears magnifying the pain in his eyes.

As if everything, every horrible thing that he had just remembered and been forced to relive, every heart-wrenching realization about his past wasn't enough - the last one was cutting deeper than he could have ever been prepared for.

„You-" He couldn't speak, his voice breaking.

Seth.

How could he have ever forgotten? The prison. The brothers. The bank. All those horrors and deaths...all set in motion by one man. Seth Gecko.

Criminal. Killer. Liar.

"Seth."

The realization of the truth hit him in the face like a bucket of ice water.

Seth...the man he had spent every minute of the past weeks with, shared his life with, slept next to...wasn't a loved one, not even a friend. He never had been. He was the reason...for everything that was wrong in his life. The amnesia, the nightmares, the PTSD.

Seth. Seth. Seth. Terrible images returning...

Seth, shoving a gun under his chin...eyes like ice as he aimed a gun at a bleeding Morgan, at a helpless Hazel, Seth, pressing a gun to his face, threatening to kill him. Seth, who had almost let his psycho brother kill him, who had dragged him through a mental and physical hell at the end of which he'd been left standing, half crazed, among the carcasses of real life monsters and the corpses of his friends, his family..

Spencer pressed a shaking hand to his mouth, horrified when it all started making sense.

The same image that had come to him weeks ago in Carlos' house flashed across his mind again, this time with cruel clarity.

The fight, the monsters, the bathroom.

The water that couldn't even begin to wash away all the bone deep pain, the blood that seemed to cover every inch of his skin, and then...the hands on him that were too rough, too restraining, like always...hands that he wished would just let go of him already but that were the only thing holding him up, that he couldn't fight...

He had been in no condition to fight for control, for anything...too far gone to think clearly at all, merely instinct driving him to want to escape the pain-

And Seth had-

Oh God, he had...

„You...you ju-" he still couldn't bring himself to form a full sentence, too afraid that if he tried he would scream, or worse. The enormity of what had happened was taking his words.

He'd wanted to just let it all go, to forget, to not have to go on...and Seth had-

The pang of guilt and realization in Seth's dark eyes would have been enough for him to know he was right if he hadn't already.

He should be dead. He had wanted to be dead.

But he wasn't. He was here... instead of lying dead and buried in the desert where he belonged, he was with Seth...Seth who had lied and lied and lied, had gotten him to stay, to believe his words, to trust and l-

„Oh go..." The terror of realizing who Seth was began to mix with the devastation of realizing who he wasn't.

It was like whatever was left of his heart was breaking for the second time. Breaking for what he'd thought he had, desiccated by something vile and poisonous...the person he thought he cared for, loved even maybe- that person didn't exist.

Because how could his Seth...gentle, caring, loving, supporting Seth...how could be be _that_, have done, known-? How could he have done that to him, and then pretend like he cared, like it wasn't his fault...how could he have held him and soothed away his fears, knowing what he'd done to him?

He could feel himself shaking even worse, tears running down his cheeks and blurring his view.

No, no, no!

Everything Seth had told him, all lies...every time he'd held him...under that caring mask he'd still been that same man, that criminal, that killer-

"Spencer-" Seth reached for him again, this time moving too fast for the crying man to avoid his grip. Spencer flinched, trying to pull away but Seth held on to his wrists tightly, fighting for words it seemed, "Spencer, I-"

"N-no-" Spencer interrupted. He tried to pull away futily, feeling Seth's fingers burning him, terribly in it's false familiarity, at the same time reminding him of lying soft caresses but also brutal, frightening touches. "Don't-"

That man he'd been so afraid of, with the same hands, the same face...but that hadn't been his Seth.

Except it had.

He couldn't keep from sobbing. Why? Why had he-? Why hadn't he just let him die after destroying his life? Why had he pretended-?

He stared at the man he'd thought he knew wild eyed, more memories hitting him.

_~'A tight grip in his hair, keeping his head tilted up, inescapable. Seth's breath, hot and much too close, hitting the skin of his throat. A rough thumb tracing his hip bone, causing his breaths to come too fast, too flat... "You know what I want? I want to hold you just like this, closer, tighter, and not let go. I want to take you away from your friends, make you stay with me and only me, so you can never leave…to keep you locked up somewhere until you forget that you hate me, that you ever wanted to leave…until I'm the only one left, until you forget everything else, until you stop fighting…until you need all of it, need me. Until you want me back…"'~_

Spencer shuddered, unable to keep a tortured moan from escaping his lips.

That one terrifying, eye opening moment. Only then, far too late had he understood what motivated Seth, that he was obsessed with far more than just getting his brother out of the police's reach. He'd barely been able to comprehend his confession...much less think that Seth could actually mean the insane things he was saying, not after everything that had happened between them. There hadn't been time to think about it afterwards...they had been too busy fighting for their lives.

He'd understood that Seth was attracted to him, had made use of that to deal with his pain after all...but this...this degree of obsession...taking him away, and making him stay with lies over lies, putting him back together...but wrong, adding his own tainted touch to everything, every aspect of him...until he was this, this-

_Oh, God_.

"Y-You're insane-"

Seth was worse than Spencer had ever thought; not just a brutal killer but out of his mind in his obsession. It was in that moment that dread and fear won out over pain and confusion. Seth wasn't what he'd thought -not even the Seth he had forgotten. He was suddenly terrified more than anything else. He'd thought Seth capable of a lot of things, had rightfully been afraid during their first days together. Violence, short temper, murder even...but this? To go to this extent to get what he wanted...?

His eyes flickered from Seth's collar, blood stained from earlier, to his hands -just as tainted- that were still keeping him trapped. His pulse skyrocketed, pain forgotten as fear won out.

"Let me go!" He had to get away, away from Seth. He tore at the grip on his wrists, desperate to wrench himself free. "Let go!"

"Spencer," Seth made no move to let up; on the contrary, "You have to listen to me, you don't understand-"

"No!" He didn't listen, kept struggling. There was nothing that could have explained this, no indication even that Seth would really try...considering everything he'd done: who was to say Seth would actually care to hear in how many ways this was tearing him to pieces. He wasn't his lover- _they _weren't anything. Everything he come to rely on, to trust in was a lie. He had already suffered and cried and broken down once before and Seth hadn't cared...obsessed or whatever...he had just taken what he wanted, even aided by Spencer's complete breakdown.

Did it even matter that he had remembered? Would it even mean more to this man than just an inconvenience in form of Spencer changing his behavior, being harder to control? He wouldn't let this...this glitch in his plan destroy everything he'd achieved...

"Let go, let me-"

"Spencer, stop! Calm down," Seth's hands left his wrists, wrapping around his face too quickly for him too see it coming through a veil of tears. "Let me fix this, I-"

That was the last straw; the combination of those hands so close to his neck and those words, remembering how Seth fixed things-

It was too much.

xxx

Seth didn't know what to do, speechless in this terrible situation.

Spencer was falling apart right in front of him. It was becoming more and more obvious that he remembered everything now, not just figments. His old life, his job, the vampires...and their relationship before, what had happened between them.

It tore at his heart to see the absolute pain and betrayal in the younger man's eyes, the desperate tears that he knew were not just a reaction to remembering all of his losses but also the very specific loss of his faith in Seth.

He tried, began to try to explain that he was sorry, that he'd seen no other way, that he knew it was his fault, that he hadn't wanted to hurt him with that.

Spencer clearly wasn't listening to him though, still shaking his head with tears in his eyes, shaking as he slowly backed away from him. Seth reached for him to stop him, to make him listen, but the words got lost when the kid flinched from him like he'd been burned, another emotion suddenly surfacing on his face, dawning next to hurt and devastation.

Fear.

Not fear like before, due to the situation, or the dead man, not even the trauma he'd been force to remember. No, fear of him.

Seth drew in a sharp breath, his heart clenching in his chest when Spencer's wide eyes suddenly looked at him in a whole different way.

It had been like a punch to the gut to see that familiar, trusting look fade back to one close to how Spencer had looked at him before his amnesia. He'd not been surprised at the anger, or even disdain though. He knew he deserved that...

But to be afraid of him? Didn't Spencer know he would never-?

"Baby-"

He instinctively pulled him in closer, reached out to touch Spencer's cheek -but before he could say anything else Spencer suddenly kicked his shin so hard that he staggered, tearing himself away from him and bolting.

By the time Seth had straightened up, cursing in pain, he'd already dashed into the bathroom. Seth ran after him but only got another glance at a white face and wide eyes before the door slammed shut and was locked from inside.

"Spencer!" He grabbed the doorknob, shaking it, "Open the door!"

He yanked at the door, harder than he probably should have, but too upset to think clearly. "Spencer!"

He needed to get to the younger man, explain to him...he didn't know what he wanted to say, or could say really, but they needed to talk this out. Spencer was right to be angry and upset and shocked, to feel betrayed. But he'd looked _scared_...

_'No...'_

Seth knew he had done some horrible things in the past, to Spencer and in general.

But that was the past. It was all different now. They were together, they had a completely different level of trust now, of intimacy. Spencer knew him, how he could be, now, he knew how it was between them, how it should have been all along.

He would understand in time how sorry Seth was about the lying, but why he'd done it...maybe not forgive him fully, but understand.

Right?

He knew that the Seth who had hurt him, and threatened him, didn't exist anymore, and that he had never wanted to do any of that in the first place -after all he'd seen how he had been in the past weeks. He knew.

Seth stared at the locked bathroom door.

Didn't he?

xxxx

**Slow, slow progress :S **

**So, kinda sad, huh? I hope it made sense, their reactions. What do you think should happen now? What could Seth do/say to fix this? Or can't he? Suggestions? :)**

**Please review!**


	33. Way Out

New chapter :) Okay, so sorry if my last post confused you. I didn't mean I'm not continuing it, I merely changed the category for a day.

Also, a warning: This may be triggering. The whole story probably is but I thought I should mention it anyway.

* * *

Flashback:

.

Across the table, Emily looks at him with a mix of pity and frustration. Reid can barely focus on her anymore. He's exhausted after hours and hours of pointless questions and not sleeping.

"Where did you get those then, if Seth didn't hurt you like you said?" she asks darkly.

He doesn't have to look up to know she means the scars. The scars from that night; the second most horrible night of his life. He closes his eyes, unwilling to be reminded of that part of his past even if in a way, it is fresher on his mind now than ever.

"I never said he didn't hurt me," he says quietly, with forced detachment.

Amazing how these smart people can get so many things wrong just because they let their emotions cloud their judgment.

"But you told Rossi-" Emily starts to protest, but then falls silent. She has probably looked over the statement in her folder again and realized what exactly it entails. "Oh."

He still can't get himself to look at her when he nods, afraid that his composure will crumble after all if he does. That night seems like so long ago in a way, but in his heart it might as well have been yesterday.

"Seth hurt me...worse...and in more ways than I ever would have thought possible. I didn't tell Rossi because he didn't ask that."

There is silence for along time. Maybe she doesn't know what to do with his sudden openness.

"I'm sorry," she says eventually and he believes her. Not that it helps anyone.

"So am I," he muses, absently running his fingertips of the physical reminders of passed trauma that are permanently etched into his skin, "So is Seth. But that doesn't make these go away, does it?"

xxx

He didn't know how long he'd just sat there, his back against the locked bathroom door.

It could have been hours that he spent between episodes of violent, shaking sobs and cold, numb stupor, always with the sound of screams and blood rushing in his ears. He couldn't see, tears as well as memories blurring his view of the present.

There was no way to filter the assault of horridly realistic flashbacks, the images, the sounds, the realizations, the grief and anguish that came with it.

The monsters, that horrible night... Elle, Gideon, Hotch, dead, their empty eyes staring at him accusingly even now in his mind. He could still hear his own screams and pleas as he tried to save them-

It was like every emotion that he had not dealt with due to his amnesia was trying to by processed at the same time now. He was back in that underground bathroom all over again, for the first time actually mourning the loss of his closest friends, feeling the true imprint of the trauma that had merely lurked in his dreams for the passed weeks.

Dead. His family, dead because of him...he'd killed Hotch with his own hands, the others were his fault too...

And he had just gone on living, had just forgotten about them. He hadn't even passed on Hotch's message to his wife and son. No, he'd been too busy shacking up with the very man who-

He pressed a hand to his lips to keep from retching again; his stomach was still churning from the last time he'd let his thoughts wander too close to _him_.

The worst of all was that he couldn't even properly mourn his friends, even now. Not when at least half of his brain was busy processing the pain caused by thinking about Seth. Not when what was left of his heart was breaking for the very person responsible for all of this.

The mere thought made him sick, made him want to hit his head into the wall until it all went away.

How could he be crying over Seth?

The man who had started it all, who had gotten them to that bar, gotten his friends killed, gotten Spencer to a point where his life was in shambles...only to then-

He couldn't even think any further in his mind, too horrified and sickened by his new reality. To think that he had fallen for the lies of a deranged serial killer responsible for the destruction of everything he'd held dear, that he had given him his trust, his life, his _everything_...

All while Seth knew about what had happened but didn't say a word, instead taking all he'd had left as well. Taking his chance to heal, to go home to his remaining friends and his mother, to his life.

Even now he could hardly wrap his mind around what he knew had happened. He knew Seth was a criminal with questionable morals, but this-?

He had no idea why Seth had done it. Maybe he just hadn't wanted to be alone after losing Richie, maybe -he cringed internally- maybe he'd gotten some sick sort of kick out of screwing an FBI agent, or maybe it really was some sort of obsession with him that he had failed to pick up on before.

It didn't matter. All of those reasons were criminally insane. None of them made what had happened any less horrible or painful.

There had been a time when he would have found Seth redeemable despite everything he'd done. He remembered how, back in those first days, he had come to think he understood the man's motives; he had even sympathized with him, felt pity for him.

But not anymore, not after this.

For whatever reason Seth had done it, it had been for no one but himself. For that he had deliberately manipulated him, let him think he was all alone, that he had no one else but Seth...pretended like he was a friend, no, a loved one...pretended like he wasn't demanding _things_, taking things that Spencer never would have given had he known-

He would have never thought Seth capable of that, not even in their darkest hour.

He buried his face in his knees, unable to stop sobbing. Sick, he felt so, so sick...

Seth had always known. When he asked him to stay. When he implied they were together. During their first kiss. When they were-

Every memory he had of them was tainted by this. Every smile, every touch...

It was finally too much. Feeling his stomach revolt, Spencer made it to the toilet just in time to empty his stomach into it. He was left on his knees, shaking and struggling to find his breath, on the verge of hyperventilating.

"Oh, God, no, no no-"

To think that he had given himself to the very person responsible for all of this...that he had let himself build his life around that person, depended on him, _loved_ him!

He couldn't even deny it.

He loved Seth. At least the man he thought Seth was. Not the killer, not the liar.

But there wasn't another Seth, was there?

No, there was just _Seth_.

Seth, who certainly didn't love _him_. He didn't even want to think about what was going on in that man's brain but he knew without a doubt that whatever the man thought he felt for him -if there was anything- it wasn't love. Not the kind he could ever want at least.

And still he was sitting here, unable to even pretend that he wasn't crying over his loss as much as the loss of his team. It was almost laughable, so tragic was it. Seth had successfully wormed his way into his heart, only to then tear it out and rip it to shreds.

Why? He knew there was probably no point in asking, no sane answer but still... Why? Why him? Hadn't he gone through enough? Why couldn't Seth just have taken the money and let him go, why-?

"I couldn't leave you there, Spencer."

Spencer flinched, only then remembering that Seth was on the other side of the door still, and realizing that he must have spoken out loud.

"I couldn't bring you to the police...but you would have died if I had left you there in the desert. I didn't do it to hurt you, I just-"

Lies over lies. Even now.

Spencer would have laughed at the sheer ridiculousness of that statement if the mere sound of Seth's voice hadn't felt like someone was twisting a knife in his sore wounds. How deranged did this man have to be, to think that Spencer would believe that that had been his reason...how deranged did he have to be to think that anything he said would make him feel better?

"You should have let me die," he whispered tonelessly, not caring if Seth could hear.

It was true. He would have preferred it. He had wanted to die after that night...but Seth had taken even that from him, hadn't he?

Spencer ground his teeth, eyes pressed shut tightly. He wanted to get up and throw open that door, to punch Seth and hurt him, and scream at him, and count all the ways in which he wasn't deserving of being called a human being -he wanted to so badly.

Almost as badly as he wanted to go out there and throw himself into Seth's arms and beg him to make it all go away.

The thought was terrifying, freezing him into place.

No! No, he wouldn't! Never again. He would never betray himself and his team like that again.

But what could he do?

Even if his own heart wasn't working against him, yearning for Seth -would Seth let him leave? God, the man had gone through all this trouble to keep him by his side so far...who was to say he wouldn't just do it again, that he wouldn't make Spencer stay until he just gave in again, until-

No. Never. He would never forget again, never lose himself like that again.

He would never go back to that.

But he also couldn't go forward. Even if Seth let him leave, he didn't know of he would be able to leave him -as pathetic as it was- but even if he did, were was he to go?

Back to the team to tell them how he was alive and the others weren't? Why he hadn't come back before? Live with this guilt and shame and agony? No. No.

There was only one logical option for him.

Weakly, Spencer got up, struggling to keep his legs under him. He walked over to the cabinet over the sink. His hands were shaking as he lifted the shaving kit that lay there, pulling out one of the razor blades in it. It glinted in the harsh light of the mirror, like it was winking at him, laughing.

He stared at it, not feeling anything but a faint sense of relief at the promise it gave.

"I'm so sorry," he closed his eyes, one last tear running over his pale cheek.

Not sorry for himself no, just the people he'd let down and caused pain. This wouldn't make up for that but it would keep him from any further indignity.

His time had been up that one dark night in the Mexican desert anyway. He'd felt it then. The only reason he wasn't dead was because of Seth's selfish meddling.

Nothing that had come after that night should have ever happened. Nothing that had made him feel like it was worth living after that had been real.

He hissed at the sharp sting when he dug the blade into the skin above his left wrist, where he knew the main artery was the most easily damaged. It hurt worse than he would have expected and he blacked out briefly with the second deep cut. He found himself on the floor, his legs having given in, but he didn't care, just stayed there, numbly watching the floor around him turn red with his own blood.

_'Mom, Derek, J.J, Jake. I'm sorry. This is the best I can do.'_

He let his eyes flutter shut when the world around him started to turn dark, his body beginning to feel numb. He could still hear Seth calling his name from outside the door. It was a relief when the sound began to fade as well with his slipping consciousness, fade along with the pain.

It was too late for him to hear the door burst open minutes later, or to hear the panicked curses, or feel the hands grasping his cold skin, the arms hoisting him up. It was too late for everything.

Xxx


	34. Forgiveness

_So I found this among my notes for a Women's Studies class I took last semester. It's not written by me so it's not an actual update but I think it relates very well to the story, so yes, here you have it, hope you enjoy._

_About an actual update, I don't have much yet, sorry. I mentioned before that's it's kind of frustrating to feel like not many people even care to read this anymore. I really dont want to be annoying or ungrateful to the people who do give me feedback -I am not purposefully drawing anything out here, I am just lacking the motivation to keep writing like this._

_ I'm hoping it'll come back because this story is so important to me. It feels like maybe I've drawn it out too much, don't have enough action and that's why people have lost interest...but well, too late to change that now. There was just so much I wanted to write about that felt important to the story's development, but maybe that's not what people want. _

_Anyway, enough whining. I do hope you will like this extract from Rebecca Brown's short Story "Forgiveness". It's one of my favorites and it is the general direction I want to go with the story. Just don't quite know how yet._

xxx

"Forgiveness"

You told me you had grown.

You told me how much you had learned about the world, about yourself, about honor, faith and trust, etc. You looked deep into my eyes and said, I've changed. You said how good and strong and true and truly different you were. How you had learned that it is not our acts, but our intents, that make us who we are.

I closed my eyes and couldn't open them. My mouth was closed. I couldn't tell you anything.  
I couldn't tell you that you can't re-do a thing that's been undone. I couldn't tell you anything that you would understand. I couldn't tell you that it wasn't just the fact that you had ripped it out of me and taken it and mounted it, then left with it then lost it, how it wasn't only that, but it was more. How it was that when you asked me, I believed you and I told you yes. How, though I had tried a long time to replace what you had hacked away from me, I never could undo the action of your doing so, that I had, and only ever would have, more belief in your faulty memory, your stupid sloppy foresight, than in your claims of change. How I believed, yes, I believed with all my heart, that given time, you'd do something else again.

And then I thought, but this was only half a thought, that even if you had changed, no _really_ really changed, truly and at last, and even if you knew me better than I know myself, and even if I'm better off than I've ever been, and even if this was the only way we could have gotten to this special place where we are now, and even if there's a reason, darling, something bigger than both of us, and even if all these even ifs are true, that I would never believe you again, never forget what I know of you, never forget what you've done to me, what you will do, I'll never believe the myth of forgiveness between us.


	35. Like, ever

_Okay, so I gave this another shot. This was a difficult chapter to write, and by the end of it I didnt know if I felt worse for Reid or for Seth :(_

_Hope you enjoy, if you're still reading._

xxx

The blissful void didn't last.

Spencer came to slowly, his eyelids leaden and his arms aching.

With a pained moan he shifted to escape the sensation -or tried to at least. The pain only intensified, a brutal sting that went through his whole body as metal dug into his left wrist, cold and unrelenting.

Spencer's eyes snapped open, drowsiness cut in half in an instant. Handcuffs...around a bed frame. The motel bed...

Their motel room.

..._Seth_.

No-

He gasped for air like a drowning man, feeling the waves of anguish and terror he'd so desperately tried to escape wash over him yet again and leaving him shaking. The past, all of it, every gruesome, shattering detail...the horrible, horrible present...

_No. No, no-_

Without thinking, he began to struggle to get free, clawing at the restraint with his free hand, but his whole body felt just as heavy as his eyelids, making every movement a great effort, leaving him with cold sweat on his forehead and his pulse rushing in his ears, chased by a frantic heartbeat.

Breathing hard, he pressed his eyes shut, trying to force himself to still, to think...to not give in to his overwhelming emotions but- it hurt, everything hurt...he felt like he was being crushed-

"No," he could feel the metal tearing at his skin but didn't care, "no, no, nonono-"

"Don't." Steps, then the mattress dipped by his hip and there were hands on him, stilling his trembling arms. "You'll rip the bandages."

The voice went through him like a knife.

Through the black spots dancing in front of his eyes, Spencer stared up at Seth Gecko, into eyes that had once meant his world and that were now burning him like hot iron.

A mere second he was frozen- then instinct kicked in and he reared back, thrashing to get out of the man's grip, to get away, another string of sounds gushing from his throat.

NO! It was all he could think, all that comprised him at that moment, his whole being a single guttural scream.

It was no use. Of course not, he knew as much and yet he fought with all his strength anyway.

Seth leaned over him, solid as a wall, gripping his hands more tightly and pushing them down, making him feel even more trapped-

"Spencer-"

It was too much, enough to snap his last bit of control. He fought, fought desperately, trying to shake off the feeling of being suffocated, crushed, fought against the sobs trying to claw their way out of his throat, against the panic that threatened to swallow him whole...

No. He'd been so, so afraid of this- of Seth not letting him go, tearing him back into this hell- forcing his presence on him, a scorching reminder of his agony.

He'd tried so hard to get away, to make things right, to make the pain stop, to get away-

Seth's hand on his skin felt like a branding iron, searing pain down to his bone...

"Let go," he wheezed, the world around him a blur, "let go, let me-"

Seth didn't move a finger.

His hands stayed in place, keeping Spencer's bandages in place and him from ripping open his slashed wrists, protecting him, like the cruelest of jokes.

...

He didn't know how long it was until the world around him regained any form.

Through screams and crying, his own or that out of memories he couldn't tell anymore- he thought he heard another voice, talking, calming words...so far removed, so insignificant.

'-let it out...alright...understand...just breathe...focus...here...'

It did nothing to bring him relief, to ease the drive to get away from it all, from the memories, from his touch.

In the end, the only reason he finally stilled was because his body had no more energy left to obey his mind. He ended up lying there, trembling and aching, his throat sore, still trapped, trying hard to catch his breath...eyes pressed shut he did the only thing he could, trying to block out the metal, and Seth's hands, and everything.

Breathing in and out sharply, he fought for any kind of mental shield to put up, fought to shut it all out...

But he couldn't. He was just too exhausted, too broken...he couldn't get away, even mentally...couldn't even shut out the pain, the panic-

"Take them off," he choked out, hating the way his voice sounded desperate, pleading, "take- stop it, just-"

Tears were blurring his sight but he refused to let them fall. Not that Seth wouldn't see anyway. Not that it would matter to him...after how much crying Spencer had done in the past.

"I can't do that." Seth's voice sounded almost regretful from above him, for a moment so soft, so familiar that they almost managed to belie his words' meaning. He actually sounded sorry. Spencer wanted laugh at that. For all he knew, somewhere in that man's warped brain he _was_, and thought that it mattered.

Calloused fingers trailed over the inside of Spencer's wrist briefly -lightly- Spencer pulled away and their grip tightened. Seth drew in a breath, his fingers flexing tensely.

"I know I pushed you, Spencer, and shocked you...that it was hard, remembering..." his voice was losing the pseudo-soothing tone it had had until then, anger slowly bleeding through, "But how could you- You tried to fuckin-"

For a moment Spencer thought he hadn't heard right, so shocked that he almost snapped out of his ever building panic attack. Had he just-? Was Seth actually angry at him for-? He choked on a laugh, aware that it sounded more like a sob. Insane...the man was insane...he was just going on like nothing had changed...like he wasn't the villain, clear for everyone to see.

"I broke down the door. A minute longer...and you would have bled out."

Spencer stared at a point on the wall, not reacting outwardly. On the inside, he could feel nothing but cold disappointment. Just one more minute...he'd come so close to escaping...

Strong fingers suddenly gripped his jaw, forcing his face around.

"Bled out!" Seth repeated the words, close to yelling. His eyes were blazing, his expression now nothing but a porous mask atop the storm brewing underneath.

Spencer breathed in sharply, immediately trying to pull away but Seth stilled him, making him look.

It was like a punch to the gut, breaking through any shred of control he'd been trying so desperately to reassemble over the past minutes. Seth's eyes were no different than any other time he'd looked at him, deep and rich and full of emotion. Anger, yes, but also betrayal, and regret, and fear, and helplessness, and pain -sharp and real and devastating.

Spencer felt his chest constrict, in that moment torn between two very clear reactions. Breaking down in tears at the sight of his last beloved ghost -or feeling furious himself.

For the purpose of self-preservation, he chose the letter.

Those emotions...they were _his_ to feel. His. He was the one betrayed, the one whose heart had been crushed, who'd lost everything. Not Seth. How dare he- look at him like that? How dare he throw what he'd had to do in his face, like he had any right to his anger, like it wasn't all his fault-

He didn't try to fight the rage welling up inside him for a second, latching onto it like a lifeline.

"You should have let me die then," he hissed at Seth. He hoped that his eyes conveyed all the hatred and contempt he felt for the man in that moment even when his voice couldn't carry the emotions properly.

Seth winced, looking pale for a moment before his eyes flashed and he snarled at him. "What?"

Spencer stared at him, unmoved, unblinking, feeling the shift in the room. He was almost glad to see the man's true nature now instead of this charade he seemed to try to hard to keep up, that pretense of care, of gentleness. It made it easier in a way.

There would be no more illusions between them now, at least, he would make sure of it. If Seth thought for a minute that stopping him from dying a second time would change anything about the future-

He didn't know what exactly Seth thought, if he thought he could fix them, make things go back to how they had been somehow, if he thought he could make him forget the truth somehow if he just pushed long and hard enough...

He'd done it before, after all, ripped him away from death's door...refused to let him go...But he wouldn't now, not again. This situation, this horrid reflection of the past, Seth taking control over everything, taking and taking, tearing him down piece by piece...it wouldn't play out like that again.

Spencer knew now.

"I thought it was obvious. I did it to get way. From you." How could the man not realize that? "Because I would have rather bled out on a cold, dirty bathroom floor, alone, than to have to spend one more second looking at you!"

Seth seemed to pale at his harsh words, actually hit by them, shocked -Spencer hoped they hurt. He had no idea how Seth had deluded himself into thinking anything else until now, but no more.

"You don't mean that."

Seth's face twitched, his expression flickering somewhere between pain and anger once more. His grip tightened, until it was bordering on painful. He was beginning to seem more and more unhinged, more and more like the impulsive, poorly controlled person Spencer had met him as.

Spencer found he didn't care. What could Seth do to him, really, no matter how angry he got?

"No? Take these off and I'll show you just how much I mean it."

God, how he wished to get his hands on a knife or gun right now.

He sat there, slightly breathless from his outburst, staring and waiting for Seth to snap, to finally get it was over and drop the act, to lash out at him. For a moment that seemed like an eternity, he watched the multitude of emotions warring on Seth's face, fighting for dominance.

In the end though, Seth's grip loosened, and the man relaxed forcibly.

"You think that now," he said, eyes clouded, back to that disturbing determination, "but you won't always. But you'll be glad I stopped you once you've-"

"No. Stop it!" Spencer couldn't take one more word of it, "Let me go, right now!"

"Why?" Seth snapped, his thin layer of calm immediately cracking, "You tell me you want to hurt yourself and you think I'm gonna let you?!"

He shook his head, "That's not gonna happen, Spencer," He leaned back, looking around the room as though searching for something, or maybe just to break eye contact for a moment. When he turned back his expression had finality to it. "You're gonna stay like this until you've come to your senses and until I can be sure you're not a danger to yourself anymore."

The statement was so outrageous and ridiculous that Spencer didn't know whether to laugh or cry some more.

"Right. Because it's _me_ we've got to worry about. Kind of funny with how often you've threatened to personally slash my throat, don't you think?"

How far gone did that man have to be to actually think he would be the one to keep Spencer from harm...and that Spencer would still want him to now?

His words made Seth freeze a second time. He was motionless for a second before the last bit of anger on his face shattered, along with his determination.

It was replaced by that terrible, regretful expression again. Spencer would have clawed his own eyes out if it had meant not having to see it on Seth's face. It was too convincing... almost enough to believe...it almost made him want to believe that Seth was doing this because he loved him, worried for him.

"Spencer, I-"

The fingers that had still been clutching his chin, relented fully and moved up, reaching out almost gingerly to cup his face.

Spencer jerked away, cringing like the touch might burn him. Or worse, crack the wall of anger he'd built around himself, let his heartbreak shine through once more-

Seth's face crunched up at his reaction. His eyes fell shut for a moment, his features a grimace of pain. He didn't pull back though, merely reached out his other hand to trap his face, and then leaned down, staring at Spencer imploringly, and so honest that it drew the air out of his lungs.

"I would never hurt you", his voice was just barely steady, "How can you even think that after everything-?"

"Don't," Spencer felt tears burning in his eyes despite himself, hot and traitorous, "Don't you dare, not after everything-"

How could Seth be doing this to him? It was worse than anything he could have done. Talking, acting like he cared about him, like he was still the man he'd pretended to be, like the man Spencer had loved wasn't gone, ripped away from him like a cloud of smoke...like he wasn't some lowlife, homicidal psychopath who had intentionally taken advantage of his every weakness-

He wanted to throw in his face that he wasn't scared of him, that he was nothing to him, less than that-

The truth was though, he was terrified.

There wasn't a single thing that Seth could do that wouldn't hurt him, he knew, not when even looking at him ached this much.

He shook his head, laughing, "You have hurt me and hurt me and hurt me from day one and in every possible way there was! You took everything from me, broke me- You think I'm afraid of you?! I tried to kill myself, what else can you do to me?! How could you hurt me worse than you already have?!"

"Spencer, I know that what I did was- but you have to understand why I-"

"No!" he was shouting now, not caring about the wetness on his cheeks, "I don't want your explanations, or your apologies! I know enough...enough to know that I never want you near me again...you think, what? That you can tie me up here until I get it? Until I somehow understand why you-" his voice almost broke. He chocked down a sob, "Until I forgive you?"

He stared up at Seth, breathless and trembling, searching his face for any reaction, anything other than- but there it was, plainly visible. _That_ was exactly what Seth wanted.

Spencer felt himself grow cold, his eyes hardening as he spoke the next syllables, slowly and clearly so Seth wouldn't miss them.

"I will _never _forgive you."

He didn't know why Seth would want forgiveness in the first place -either he actually was deluded enough to think that what they'd had was a real relationship, or he really just wanted to have it easy again, like before, for Spencer not to make it difficult fro him to get what he wanted, to just roll over like- He shook himself, disgusted. Never.

He kept looking at Seth, just long enough to know he'd gotten it, to see his resolve crumble. It almost felt like it might make up for the reaction he was sure would follow soon.

Seth would lose it.

He closed his eyes, trying to hold on to the indifference he felt about that. It had been so long since Seth had ever done anything to physically hurt him, and even back then- but he was capable of it of course.

Maybe it would help. Help draw a clear line once and for all. Help Spencer to stop aching on the inside like this.

"You think I don't know that?"

He almost blinked in surprise when Seth merely kept talking, controlled, even as his voice didn't show it anymore, "You think I don't know how you feel right now, that I don't hate myself for it?"

Gods, no, he sounded so sincere, so torn...

"You can hate me if you want to..." he'd never heard Seth so shaken, so desperate. It was disturbing. "But I won't leave you alone with this. I will get you through this...I _was_, you know I was, I was helping you through the nightmares, and the loss...I was helping you get your life back tog-"

"I don't have a life!" Spencer suddenly snapped, unable to listen anymore, to let this go on, "Everybody I love is dead or has given up on me! Because of you!" He ignored Seth flinching. "All I have is this sick charade-"

"It wasn't a charade, Spencer, I meant everything I-"

Again, Spencer stopped him, eyes blazing with tears, voice shaking as he screamed, "You meant it alright! You meant it when you promised you'd kill everyone I cared about if I didn't comply, you meant it when you promised to rip me away from my life and chain me up until I lost my mind, until I became some puppet for you to f-"

At that, Seth finally, finally snapped, along with Spencer. He lurched forward, grabbing him again and shoving him back onto the bed, knocking the air out of him before he could finish his sentence. He was breathing heavily, his eyes shining with fury and hurt, aggression.

Spencer just laughed at him and the pain. Finally. That had taken long enough.

"Go ahead," he spat, "What's the point of pretty words anymore? We both know what you are, what you are capable of. You can keep me tied up here as long as you want to. Do whatever you can come up with -it won't change anything. You'll still be a monster. I will still hate you and I'll still do anything to get away from you. I'd rather be dead than with you."

He watched with sickening satisfaction as the words ripped through Seth, lessening his own pain just slightly, watched him fall apart. Seth was shaking atop of him, his heavy muscles tensing, ready to press down on him further, to retaliate, he knew- he watched the darkness dawn in the other man's eyes, so startlingly different and yet so familiar from a past lifetime; he watched Seth Gecko reemerge.

The man's eyes were black as night as he looked down on him, the muscles in his jaw twitching. "You'll change your mind."

Spencer watched as his weakness, everything that could be attacked, was pulled back behind a shield old cold and hardness, the way it had always been. He refused to let it terrify him, even as his chest constricted and instincts kicked in, he reminded himself: Seth couldn't hurt him anymore than he already had.

He might as well hurt himself trying.

* * *

Okay, so I hope this wasn't too triggering. And that neither of them were too OOC. Reid too aggressive and Seth too soft, but well, it's a difficult situation for both of them. I shall see how to get them out of that :)

Please review, thank you.


	36. Gun

So this is short. I can only ask again that people let me know they are reading this. Thanks.

* * *

.

In the end, he was almost disappointed.

Of course it would have been insane to say he wanted Seth to hurt him, to beat him, rape him...do any number of terrible things. Still, he couldn't help the thought that it would have been for the best.

It would have been the bloody ending fitting the bloody beginning.

It would have let him hate Seth completely, would have let him focus on that, that and physical pain -it would have distracted him from anything else.

As it was, the night was ending, the first hints of dawn hesitantly creeping through the closed curtains, and he was still no further than he had been hours ago. Trapped, stuck, like a butterfly trapped in a spider web. A spider which was currently lying right next to him without stirring.

Seth's breathing was even and flat. Spencer could only assume he had finally drifted into a shallow sort of sleep. There was no way of telling for sure; he had his back turned towards Seth, lying as far at the edge of the bed as the handcuffs and Seth's heavy arm around him would allow.

He wouldn't turn around. Instead he counted the man's breaths to distract himself from any other thought in his mind. 2078. 2079...

Yes, he had to be asleep. Still, Spencer almost couldn't bring himself to move, sick at the thought that the man would wake up again. He wouldn't be able to take any more of it, the arms hugging him tightly, desperate almost, the gravelly voice murmuring lies into his ear.

By now, he didn't doubt anymore that Seth would not give this up easily. He'd tried everything to repel him, to shake him up, to goad him even...but in the end, Seth, the man with the least ability to control his anger he knew -had proven to be stubborn as a stone wall. Ignoring all proof to the contrary he'd just kept on feeding his delusion, refusing to let Spencer go...or to stop talking...

he had never felt a truer form of torture. The stress had already begun to wear him down and to let his mind slip for just a second meant to feel himself fall back into the past, into the embrace of a lover. It was frightening how easy it would have been to let himself keep slipping, to just abandon sanity and the pain along with it. To give Seth what he wanted.

But he couldn't. He knew that. If not to save himself, he couldn't do that to the people who had fought and died to give him life.

He couldn't let their sacrifice be wasted like this.

So he held on, focusing on the only thing he manged to grasp properly: anger, resentment, hatred.

And he waited. Waited for Seth to finally give in to exhaustion. Then he waited some more.

He knew he'd only have one chance to do this right. Slowly, carefully, he finally turned around in Seth's embrace, his breath held until the man shifted to accommodate his motion. Seth's eyes remained closed, though he pulled him in a little tighter.

Spencer looked away from his features.

Instead he focused on his free hand at their waists. It wasn't much of an effort to move it ever so carefully, and maneuver it into Seth's pocket. In a matter of moments he held the key to his freedom -it was five minutes more before he dared to move enough to be able to open the handcuffs.

Heart racing, he barely held it together long enough to grab Seth's gun from next to his side of the bed.

xxx

Seth woke to the immediate realization that something was not right. Not, wrong-the-way-things-had-been-going-that-night-wro ng -but acutely wrong.

He blinked, catching a shadow moving above him, and reacted instantly by sitting up and reaching for his gun -or at least, he tried to.

The metallic rattle of handcuffs made his eyes snap open with alarm. Through the darkness, he was met with the blazing of shiny gun metal and teary hazel eyes. Spencer was free -more so, he was hovering over him, both hands clutching his gun.

Seth made to speak up but the words got stuck in his throat at the unmistakable sound of the gun's safety being released.

* * *

Changed the end a bit. I hope it's better now.


End file.
